


Black diamonds

by theJollyJoker (Triyune)



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Anal Sex, Beatles - Freeform, Breathplay, Cock & Ball Torture, Dark, Despair, Drug Use, Drugged Sex, Fluff, Folie a Deux, Frotteurism, Genesis - Freeform, Hand Job, Hand Jobs, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Insanity, Lovesickness, M/M, Madness, Mental Breakdown, Milking, Nine Inch Nails, Non-Consensual, Non-Consensual Electroconvulsive Therapy, Oral Sex, Parody, Psychedelic, Psychosis, Reunion Sex, Rimming, Rough Sex, Sensory Deprivation, Sleep Deprivation, Smut, Songfic, The White Album, Torture, pink floyd - Freeform, the Other - Freeform, why always so serious?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-25
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-03-24 00:28:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 47,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13799535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Triyune/pseuds/theJollyJoker
Summary: What seemed to become just another cheap prank of the Joker takes a very different direction when contrary to his belief, he finds Bruce Wayne at home, being in a quite celebratory mood, listening to the Beatles with a glass of wine.Each chapter is based on one or more songs from one band and a special topic.Chapter 1: 'Black Diamonds' - Beatles / fluffChapter 2: 'The sea of green' - Nine Inch Nails / violenceChapter 3: Diary entryChapter 4: 'Whiteout' - Depeche Mode / go figureChapter 5: 'High Voltage' - Pink Floyd / madnessChapter 6: 'Folie à deux' - Genesis / reunionChapter 7: 'The house of fun' - Madness / some fun and madness?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** I don’t make money of writing this fic and the character belong to DCcomics.  
>  2\. Lyrics by The Beatles and their members.  
> 3\. This fiction doesn’t aim at glorifying drugs but wants to point out that with drug abuse, situations can quickly get out of control which may result in life-changing events.
> 
>  **Side note:** That fiction wasn’t supposed to be a songfic at all until that evening when my Lennon put on the White Album and things fell into place. Sorry bout that ;)

**Black Diamonds**

Saturday morning, 31st of March, I hit upon a glorious idea. I was so bored that any idea was welcome and this one was a good one, so I thought.  
Saturday was Wayne day on TV. Whenever it was Saturday, he showed up somewhere on the news or early evening gossip weekly, like the “side glances” show, framed by pretty girls, holding a champagne glass and philosophizing about 4th world poverty.  
That implied that Wayne Manor was left empty, except for the butler maybe but I was sure I could handle him if it came to that point.  
Yes, I would enter Wayne Manor. Not for the first time anyway.

Gleefully, I thought of a stupid trap, something jumping out of the fridge, like, an evil clown face on a spiral spring, a Jack-in-the-fridge. The sillier the better. I would install that and when he’d come home from the party on the 1st of April, opening the fridge for more booze he’d embrace a heart attack.  
The reason for not having killed the Batman yet had always been an egoistic one. I could have easily entered his mansion and stabbed him in his bed. But without him, there was no fun.  
That one month when he had broken his legs and had to stay at home I had turned crazy. No sign of him on the streets, no fear when going outside, not thrill. It was just boring. No, I wanted to keep my partner.

Until the evening, I had found everything I needed for my little gag and left the house. It was raining, so I took a cab to his site. There, I climbed the fence. Of course, it was meant to be a fence to protect his castle and so there were razor-sharp spikes on top of it and I got me some cuts and scratches but nothing serious. What a half-assed attempt. Not even when scaring off burglars Bruce Wayne wanted to hurt anyone seriously.

I snuck to the main entrance and boldly tried my luck. I didn’t want to find myself finding out that the door hadn’t been locked when I had managed to get inside through a window.  
And so it was. The door wasn’t locked. That meant that the butler was around and I had to be as silent as possible.

Carefully, I pushed it open and stepped inside. Some candles lit the aisle. That man really needed some lamps in his castle. Stopping for a moment, I heard a dull string of sounds, echoing in the hallway and thus, sounding even more contorted. Distorted guitar riffs wavered across the hall. The old hag was partying. When the cat’s away, the mice will play. At least, he wouldn’t hear me that way and I didn’t need to be as careful.  
On tiptoes though, I headed for the end of the hallway, noticing the music getting louder. There was light shining on the floor from a room to the right. 

The music was coming from there. A strange voice was passionately lamenting along to the music.

_Yes, I'm lonely…want to die…yes, I'm lonely…want to die…if I ain't dead already…oh, girl, you know the reason why…_

The corners of my mouth rose; that old mutt obviously was feeling sentimental and blue. I wanted to see that by all means. So I put down the joke box and peeked into the room.  
What I saw made me forget my cautiousness and step into the light, baffled and taken by surprise. I couldn’t believe what I saw.  
Bruce Wayne was draped on the sofa, dressed in a silky green kimono, shrouded in a cloud of smoke of decent size and scent, getting lost in the White Album.

Suddenly, he turned his head and spotted me. I clenched my teeth. For a moment, he seemed to not recognize me or take my appearance for anything abnormal but then, a broad grin spread on his face which made me doubt what I was seeing even more.  
Two or three seconds passed in silence again and I was too baffled than to move.

“Saturday evening! What a pleasure to meet you!” he finally declared into my direction with a smile as broad as his head.

I still couldn’t believe it. None of that. But it was obvious, bloody obvious.  
I closed my eyes, unsure about what to do. One part insisted on turning on my heels and leaving, another part tried to convince me of taking a knife and slitting his stoned throat and the last part was shouting at me to join his Saturday evening party.  
Bruce Wayne looked at me with bloodlined eyes, the grin never disappearing.

“What are you waiting for?”

_Find me in my field of grass…Mother Nature's son…swaying daises sing a lazy song beneath the sun…Mother Nature's son…_

If I hadn’t been witnessing this with my own eyes I wouldn’t have believed anyone explaining that to me. What a nuthouse.  
A wave of snickering washed across the room.

“Gran Green, you still standing there, growing a beard? Get yourself a glass of wine and,” he took a drag, “some of this.”  
Smoke flowed from his mouth like the Niagara falls. What a sweet scent. I hadn’t been doing that for a long time anymore. To be precise, not anymore since Ivy had dumped me back then.

_…come on, come on…_

Yet, the hedonistic part got the better of me and I went to the sofa to sit down beside him. He didn’t seem to pose a danger right now at all. Hell, I wouldn’t reject such an invitation, not even if it was Bruce Wayne voicing it.  
The grin turned into a smirk. We were staring at each other for some moments, letting ourselves getting carried away in these clouds of bliss until he handed it over to me.

Memories of something which suddenly eluded me came to my mind. It couldn’t be worse than the shit they dealt me in Arkham. Passionately, I inhaled and held my breath. However, nephalism took its toll and I was forced to exhale one moment later, coughing my lungs out. Bruce Wayne burst into laughter next to me.

“Jolly...jolly good shit,” I managed to remark between those fits.

That comment sent him over the edge and I could watch tears streaming down his face.  
I kept it though and took another drag when I felt ready for it again.  
Yes, that was it.  
My heart started racing and I felt lightheaded. I leaned back and focused on a spot on the wall until the first effects would dwindle, handing it back again.

_The deeper you go, the higher you fly…the higher you fly, the deeper you go…_

Just then, I noticed the ashtray hosting one filterless fag end already. What a party. Right place, right time.  
I closed my eyes, feeling my toes getting warmer and my thighs heavier. He gave it to me one more time and I took the last drag, then stubbed it out.  
The crackling sound drew my attention to the fire. Light was moving in a hypnotizing way there, framed by hard stones, marble. Columns of light reached for the ceiling, kneeling down and straightening again. The warmth crawled up my legs.

_Come on its such a joy…come on let's take it easy…come on let's take it easy...everybody's got something to hide except for me and My monkey…_

Mesmerized, I turned my head to look at him just to find him gazing at me in amazement.

“How come it is so green…” he slurred, noticeably irritated by my hair colour.

I knew no answer to that question.  
A world unfolded to me in front of my eyes. Gates opened and spilled their contents over me. Suddenly, I understood.  
The gentleness, the cautiousness, the tolerance.  
I felt compelled to touch his skin.

It felt the way it looked like. Silky heaven.  
He let it happen, eyes fixed on me and though, looking past me.  
Strands of black hair framed his face like darkness fighting for its right to be there. I touched them and they unfolded as well; strands of pearls, his face adorned with black diamonds. They felt smooth to the touch, woven silk interspersed with diamonds.  
And then worlds collided.

_You broke the rules…you laid it down for all to see…_

Warm feathers brushed over my face and finally lay down on my cheeks. I sucked in the air, completely taken by surprise. That wasn’t part of this world anymore.  
There was me, a small man, claiming this spot of the world, alone, all the time and suddenly, something had moved towards me. Something had touched me. Reached through this isolation and solitude and given me a piece of him. My mouth dropped open in silence, the emotional turmoil inside surfacing in a single tear.

His eyes turned sad and I saw the ocean of compassion in them. Mercy like an endless ocean, gently moving in a warm light, all-embracing and accepting. It moved me to tears. I was getting lost in the waves of this blinding peacefulness and he allowed it.  
It cleansed my wounds and my soul from all that darkness which had been accumulating for all those years, polishing it and bringing the light inside to shine again.  
He closed his eyes. The sun darkened, but not for long. I could see it shining through his closed eyes, reaching for me and embracing me. I would see it forever.

Feathers gently pushed against my head. Spellbound, I complied, watching the sun coming closer.  
Feeling it spreading on my lips killed something inside me. Something heavy, something hard and crusted. A sea of gentleness filled me up as I saw the rays of light behind my closed eyes. His lips closed around my lower lip and sucked gently on it. I was too busy putting together the puzzle of feelings in my head than to do anything else than take it.  
The warmth had reached my upper thighs.

I kept my eyes closed and savoured the feeling of pure light wandering across my neck. It was such a heavy feeling that I feared I couldn’t take it any longer.  
A kind of inward peace claimed me when these lips moved again and something else entered me. Slowly, gently. This was new to me and yet, it felt so familiar. Like an archaic rite triggering an original state, pure, absolute and undiffused.

_When I get to the bottom I go back to the top of the slide…where I stop and I turn and I go for a ride…till I get to the bottom and I see you again…_

A stream of bliss rippled from my mouth when the warmth intensified. For so long it had been cold, forgotten, lost. I was melting under his touch, feeling the honesty and purity of it, devoid of reservation, restrictions and regrets. He still kept his eyes closed but I couldn’t but watch him moving, shining and melting as well. And then, there was the point when we became one, limbs merging, getting lost in the same sea of warmth, gleaming with bliss and sharing one will, one mind and one body, our thoughts going into one single direction. 

_Will you, won't you want me to make you…I'm coming down fast but don't let me break you…_

Feathers caressed my crotch, the corpus cavernosum swelling, heat spreading. I got lost in him.  
He drew back and opened his eyes. I held my breath, watching the universe unraveling. Endless oceans of compassion surged in them, guarded by millions of feathered wings of love.  
A light squeeze of my own surging sea made me tilt my head and close my eyes now. He moved closer and let our lips meet again, but just lightly. The feathered wings turned into mirror shards and replaced the sea of love.

_…helter skelter…_

Roughness spread like a thunderstorm, furious and wild and I got lost in it as well, going with the flow. Our lips met again and he bruised them with his teeth, squeezing more fiercely. My fingers dug into his chest and I pulled him closer to swallow him.  
Not close enough.  
Not letting go of his lips, I got up and sat down on his thighs. The kimono slid from his leg and bared rosen skin. I couldn’t withstand that sight. Molten white glass, gleaming and hot, traced along his thigh and made him tense up. It had become obvious by now what was going on under that thin layer of silk since it was tellingly bulging.

I searched for the black sea again and found it raving, glistening with greed. A thunderstorm was on the way, I had witnessed the forerunners, heavy rain, and now flashes illuminated that troubled sky. Surreptitiously, I snuck a hand under the kimono and the rolling of thunder followed.  
Warm and secretively, they were resting there in a cavern, waiting. He turned his head to the side and covered his eyes with his hand. Ebony and ivory mingled and the storm worsened. He would go for that and so would I.

_It took a long long long time…now I’m so happy I found you…_

Hastily, I worked on the fly of my pants, benumbed and blinded by the raging sea. No thought would keep me from that, no one would object to it and no one would give a damn about it. It just felt right.  
I took out my cock and moved closer on his thighs, pushing the silk away and pressing my erection against his. His fingers pinched the brick of his nose as he growled and tried to hold back.

When I took both of them into my hand he dug his nails into my thigh and opened his eyes to look down. The sight made his dick twitch.  
My cheeks were glowing and I felt so heated up that I had to get rid of my shirt. I let go of the hardness to unbutton my shirt and they remained in place, fighting for dominance. In the middle of taking my shirt off I stopped, amazed at the play of colours. The acid had left me white from head to toe, dying everything white and now I just got aware of that again when I saw his cock pressed against mine, like a bar of chocolate.  
Hands tore the shirt from my body and I looked up, immediately losing to what was in front of me.

_Now I can see you, be you…how can I ever misplace you…how I want you…_

Lips swollen from kisses and bruises closed over mine again and at the same time, his hand took mine and placed it on the tips while his closed around our dicks.  
I was so out of my senses that everything of that felt natural and apparently, the man in front of me was just experiencing the same.  
Without wasting any further thoughts on that I started massaging our dicks, drawing a line of moans from him while I tried to suppress them with a contorted smile. We had gone too far than to stop now and I didn’t want to stop at all.

Encouraged by his sounds I moved my pelvis, humping his belly with our dicks between me and him. His hair fell over his eyes and his mouth bore a wide grin. I inhaled deeply, enjoying that sight too much. His smartness and classiness were a killing cocktail. Muscles moved and his fingers grabbed my ass, kneading and pinching it. Who had ever touched my ass like that? My dick unwillingly grew a little larger. I licked my lips and gave him a smirk, accepting the challenge, gripping his dick firmly and rubbing the underside of it. I loved the feeling of that. 

_You know that I need you…_

One of his hands left my tortured ass cheek and pulled me closer for a wet kiss again. Our tongues met above our dicks, intertwining, dancing like furious cobras until he got hold of mine and bit down on it.  
I groaned into his mouth and tried to draw back but he didn’t let me. His grip on my ass tightened and his nails scraped down my back, making me arch up. His teeth drew blood and I gasped, squeezing his dick tightly.

His cum hit my chin and just that moment, he shoved a finger up my ass which made me come as well. We shared our breath, lips and noses pressed against each other, sweating and panting.

_Ooh I love you…_

After a good minute of an eternity in heaven we both went slack; he let himself fall back and I followed, spending another minute lying on his chest before I moved to the side to lie on the sofa as well. His finger slid from my ass and I sighed, tasting cum in my mouth. Whether it was his or mine I could not find out.

I felt heavy and spent. Exhausted and drained, full of tired bliss. My head was empty and my thoughts wandering in light, somewhere.  
Bruce Wayne clumsily bent forward and poured us another glass of wine.

“How bout another one…”

“Sure thing.”

_You say you want a revolution…well, you know, we all want to change the world…  
You tell me that it's evolution…well, you know, we all want to change the world…_

I smirked and closed my eyes. My Saturday couldn’t get any better.

 

_________________

 

I woke up in softness. It was still dark and there was the sound of rain. Blinking, I sat up and looked to my left.  
Holy shittens.  
Bruce Wayne looked at me with sleep-drugged eyes. I clenched my teeth and tried to assess my situation. My tongue felt sore.  
What the fuck had happened? What WAS happening right now? My tongue wasn't the only thing which felt sore.

I looked around but couldn’t find any clue which would lead me to last night’s memory or to any explanation as to why I was lying in Bruce Wayne’s bed. Oh, there they were. My pants were lying on the floor, half way between the door and the bed. Which meant that I was naked.

I jumped from the bed and collected them. Acute dizziness made me pause for a moment. Where was the rest? Helplessly, I turned around to look answers out of that man but he didn’t respond. While putting the jeans on I stumbled out of the room, just realizing in the hallway that there was something wrong when I wanted to button them. They didn’t fit.  
No, they weren’t mine at all.  
Just where was the rest of my rags. Looking to the left, a purple jacket caught my eye. That was mine. 

I leapt into the room and put on everything I just could find. One sock was missing but I didn’t care. Just where were my pants? Fear claiming more and more of my mind, I rushed back into the bed room, looking for my pants.  
The heck where…whatever. I needed to leave. Now.  
Bruce Wayne had sat up in the meantime, watching me turning crazy. Our eyes met and I failed to read his. Detachment. I couldn’t stand this. Couldn’t he just have forced me into orgasm and laughed at that? No, that unfazed expression. Where was the door? I didn’t want to linger on those thoughts any longer than necessary.

Just when I turned around to leave something else showed in his eyes but I missed it, storming out of the house.  
Rain was pouring down on me while I was running down the hill of Wayne manor. I left the site and headed for the city, somewhere, away from there. The rain was so cold that it benumbed me and my raging mind. Desperate for a break, I stopped by a café and sat down inside, my clothes dripping wet. My hair stuck to my face and my vision was blurred from the rain but I was finally safe, no one would find me here.

“Jokes, ya old fag!”

I was pushed forward, someone hitting my shoulder. I turned around to face the suicidal fool. Johnny Onny, one of my former stooges. Been a long time.

“Not now,” I pressed forth between clenched teeth, trying to contain myself.

Johnny snorted with amusement.

“You look pretty fucked, ya know…”

With a shaking hand, I took out my knife and pressed it against his throat, rain dropping on the blade. Johnny froze.  
The people around us kept talking. They were used to these things happening there. It wasn’t the finest area of Gotham and no one was as dense as Johnny as to pick an argument with the Joker.

“Ask me tomorrow again, kay?”

Johnny swallowed down a clump of fear.

“Kay kay, boss, easy…sorry there…”

“Fuck off,” I snarled, tasting something bitter in the back of my mouth. I couldn’t tell whether it was his cum or mine.

Johnny was fixing his tie and suit.

“Now sod off, you retard, will ya?!” I yelled at him, scaring the shit out of him.  
Johnny left without any further word, leaving little to no impression on the other guests.

Coffee was put down in front of me. I rubbed my eyes and propped myself up on my arm.  
This hadn’t just happened. How could that have happened?  
I couldn’t evade the fact that it had happened so not thinking about it wouldn’t make it any better either.  
I had had a plan, I had gone to his house, entered and found him on the sofa, higher than the god in his sky. He had handed it over to me, I had taken it…and then it had happened. But just why?

Well, I was sure I would have fingered Gandhi as well had he just been there. Or the bearded lady. I was quite relieved at realizing that it wasn’t because it was Wayne but because I simply got horny when smoking that stuff.  
Yes.  
Really.  
I promised faithfully.

What just unsettled me then was the wish to do it again.

_Honey pie, you are making me crazy  
I'm in love but I'm lazy…so won't you please come home…_

________________ 

 

Meanwhile, Bruce Wayne noticed a box on the floor next to the entry of the living room. He was glad he had even come so far now. And now he was here and that couldn’t be changed.  
He knelt down and lay a finger on the box, waiting for something to happen. No, he wasn’t quite awake yet and curiosity had infected his dopey head already so early in the morning that he couldn’t defend himself against it. What should he have done? Taken an aspirin? Caffeine?  
Bluntly, he opened the box and a clown with green hair and red lips jumped at him.  
Bruce Wayne suffered a heart attack.  
Almost.

 

_Good night, good night everybody_  
Evberybody everywhere,  
good night. 

 

________________________


	2. The sea of green

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce Wayne's POV: If you can’t kill him fuck him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nine Inch Nails got me through my bedlam, through recovery and is now getting me through my highs and the few lows.  
> I thought it was worth a fiction.  
> And since it is NIN we'll go beyond the fluff of the Beatles and need to add violence. You surely will understand.  
> Lyrics from the song “Kinda I want to” by Nine Inch Nails/Trent Reznor.
> 
>  **rating:** NC-17, explicit content  
>  **pairing:** batjokes, Bruce Wayne’s POV  
>  **warnings, or what to expect, depending on your mindset:** alcohol abuse, questionable...practices, dominance, rimming, grraphic sex

**The sea of green**

 

**Thursday, 1 p.m.**

_I can't shake this feeling from my head_

Two weeks had passed and I had woken up with the same thought, no matter whether I fell asleep at 6 in the morning or at 6 in the evening. I hadn’t changed the sheets yet, I couldn’t. I should have, there was semen and red wine all across the blanket, but I couldn’t.

At daytime during meetings, I caught myself drawing purple eyes with blue pens, or worse, purple lips with black rollerballs. Maybe I was just longing for someone who’d spend the Saturday evenings with me; someone with my sense of humour, although this was a grotesque thing when we were talking about humour and him. That hadn’t been my first one-man-home-party but it had been my best, turning into a two-men-show.  
Why wouldn’t I simply change the sheets then?

_There's a devil sleeping in my bed_

“What do you think about that option, Mister Wayne?”

I looked up from my world. 15 heads were turned my way, eyes expectantly looking at me.

“No, I don’t think we should make use of that yet. It is still too early.”

Some pleased faces, some disappointed. The daily routine. I was so sick of it. At 4 p.m., I would leave the show and head home for a glass of wine, trying to get that shit out of my head. What would father think of me? His boy, his rich kid, fooling around with the worst clown in town. What an honour, dear Mr. T. Wayne. Alfred should never get to know about any of that. Last time, I had been sure to add some sleeping agent to his tea, not much, but enough to have him safely sleeping in his gooey looey bed.

 **4 p.m.**  
I left the building, got me a taxi and got me driven to the worst, dirtiest and most undesirable district of Gotham.  
Field studies.

“Jacky Dacky!”

Jacky Dacky turned around. He frowned. A man dressed in a business suit was standing in front of him, hands stashed in his pockets, not showing any sign of fear at all. He wasn’t used to this. Usually, any sane man was fearing Jacky Dacky. He lifted an eyebrow.

“Yes?”

“Say, where’s the Joker?”

“Who wantsa know dat?” he smirked at me, baring his gold tooth.

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Boy, it matters to me!” he said, taking a step closer. I could smell the alcohol in his brain.

“Donken Didders, dude. Wants to sign up for the next quest with the Joker.”

“You must be batshit. The last guys who signed up for the next quest got taken to Arkham by the Bat. And anyway,” his eyes darkened, “you don’t look like Donken Didders.”

“I am undercover. Or uppercover. They were idiots; dressing like criminals just draws the Bat’s attention to them. If he sees me he’ll think me a stockbroker and not a burglar.”

I could see the logic seeping through his drunken brain. Sounds good?

“Yes. Well, I have no clue where the Joker is but Johnny Onny mostly does.”

“Where can I find Johnny Onny?”

“Over there, in the cafe. Hangs out there all day, doing shit. Blond hair, down to his shoulder, a scar on his left cheek, always smoking like a chimney.”

“Fine, thanks.”

Without any further look at him I passed him and entered the cafe.  
Johnny Onny was hanging out there, doing shit. With his blond hair, down to his shoulder and that scar on his left cheek, he was smoking like a chimney, talking to a lady. Or a guy. I couldn’t quite tell.  
I’d easily remember that face. Without ordering coffee or water I left the cafe. Tomorrow, I’d return. At night.

 

**Tomorrow. At night.**

„Johnny Onny!“

Johnny turned around and almost suffered a heart attack. The Batman was standing in front of him, reaching out for his jacket. There was no one else on the streets, just him and me.

“No, please, I, it hasn’t been me, I, please-“

“Shut up and give that to the Joker. I know you’re near and dear to him. And if I get to know that you haven’t done as I told you I will come and take you to Arkham this time.”

“No, please, not Arkham...”

 

**4 hours later**

_Watching you from across the way_

“Joker...”

Joker turned around and frowned. Johnny Onny was standing in front of him, looking like shit. He reached into his pockets for a small piece of paper.

“He...I gotta give that to you, boss...”

“From whom.”

“From...the Batman.”

The Joker’s forehead bore even more wrinkles.

“From the Batman, you say. Why hasn’t he given it to me himself?”

Johnny Onny was sweating heavily.

“Cuz...”

He looked at the black framed eyes helplessly, begging to be helped. But Joker wasn’t in the mood for favours.

“Yes?”

A single tear ran down Johnny’s face. He would die of a heart attack once. He thought about giving that half-assed kingdom of his up and leaving Gotham, going far, far away, to some deserted-

“Why hasn’t he given it to me himself?

“Boss...please, I dunno...”

The Joker licked his lips. None of that red colour faded and stuck to his tongue.

“Yes, why hasn’t he given it to me himself...” Joker repeated, lost in thoughts, turning around to take the cup of coffee.  
Johnny Onny had molten into a puddle of goo next to him. Slowly, he took some steps backwards to sit down by the table and sip his fourth Tequila, glad that he still felt his heart beating. Yes, he would leave all that shit and go to the 66, a small Diner’s in the heart of the desert Noona to ask all the other guests whether they would like another cup of coffee. The next second, he decided to stay in Gotham.

Joker unfolded the piece and read the few words in silence.

He moved his tongue over his teeth to get rid of those nasty nut bits sticking to his molars. He looked to the left, he looked to the right. No bat.

“JOHNNY!” he yelled to the right and the man to the right almost fell from the chair, getting a j, an o, two ns and a y right into his auditory canal where the letters mixed and mingled, leaving him dazed.

Johnny jerked.  
The Joker turned around on the bar chair, hitting the right man’s shin with his heel. He stifled a groan.

“Who gave that to you?”

“The bat, boss!”

“And why didn’t he give it to me himself?”

Johnny Onny’s face dropped. Johnny started questioning his sanity, rather than the Joker’s. Had he drunk too much? Done a line too many? Or had he misexperienced the last ten minutes? A mental blackout filled with hallucinatory elements?

“Ey, Johnny, answer!”

“Boss, I think I gotta go to sleep. Excuse me.”

Johnny Onny left the cafe. He would go to bed now. Before that, he would take off his clothes, fold them neatly and put them on the chair. And then he would go to bed.  
Joker turned around on his chair again and hit the man’s shin a second time. This time, he groaned with pain.

“Idiots...everywhere. I’m surrounded by idiots,” the Joker muttered into his coffee.  
He took the piece of paper and read the words again.  
He looked to the left. He couldn’t be serious.  
He looked down. And what if he was?  
He looked at the ugly barman in front of him. He needed to find out.  
He closed his eyes. Every night he woke up with the same thought.  
What if.

_I cannot make this feeling go away_

 

 **3 a.m.**  
I turned away from the cafe and left him behind. I had been watching him for three hours now and still couldn’t believe it. I could have hunted the worst criminals of Gotham down, but no, I stood in a dark alley and watched the Joker drinking his coffee in maniac silence. Sighing, I finally turned around to leave.  
Soon.

 _I know it's not the right thing_  
_And I know it's not the good thing_  
_But kinda I want to_

 

 **Saturday, 8:45 p.m., Wayne Manor**  
_I'm not sure of what I should do_

I hid behind the wall. He’d enter any moment. At least, I hoped that he’d enter any moment. Of course, there was the chance that he’d not come at all, but I was pretty sure that he would come. Except if he was too proud for this shit. But I was sure he wasn’t.

_When every thought I'm thinking of is you_

The door was opened and I heard him entering.  
I took a step forward and rammed the needle into his neck. I had never really caught him by surprise, never enough to let his facade slip, but this time, I caught him completely off-guard. Before he could clutch at my hand the stuff had already entered his blood system.

“What...”

I took the syringe and threw it into the living room. I’d get it later since I thought him capable of hurting me with it in that state. Absent-mindedly, he felt for the injection site, then he turned to look at me.

“What the fuck?”

I tilted my head and slowly, without him noticing, lifted my arm behind his back.

“I trusted you when you came to me that Saturday. You could’ve killed me. I want you to trust _me_ now.”

He snorted.

“You are kidding me...”

He was about to turn around when his knees gave way and I took him by his jacket to keep him from falling.

“You...”

I dragged him down the aisle to the bathroom. Part of my plan.  
No one would ever have thought that I would be able to do such things but they didn’t know me. When I was Bruce Wayne I took care of meetings, business and men in suits; when I was Batman I did the shiny good starry-eyed idealist show.  
When I was alone, I was someone else.

I heard him gasping.  
Tachycardia.  
I was pleased. I had not forgiven him yet. He had entered my house and found me in a state of utter dopiness and he had mocked me. Terribly. I wanted to shock him a little. Give him a hint of a heart attack the way he had done it with the Joke-in-the-box. No more, no less.

_All of my excuses turn to lies_

When we arrived at the bathroom I dropped him and drew a bath.  
He must have tried to move, but he wasn’t able to do much more than blink. I undressed him. Nothing I had not seen yet. I left him on the cold tiles, waiting for the water to fill the tub.

Looking at him, desperately trying to move and so dishonourably failing, gave me a pang in my guts. I didn’t care whether he was noticing me getting aroused or not. It didn’t matter at all. I wanted to tease him, just a bit. Letting him know that he couldn’t mock me like that, that I was always in control of the situation.  
He gave a sound of discomfort.  
I got up from the edge of the tub and knelt down, looking at his face.

Why hadn’t I given him the piece of paper myself?

Eyes with big, black pupils stared at me. I moved a strand of green hair out of his face.  
As a bat, I had dreamed of the moment I would have him lying there, helplessly, ready to be locked away forever since he had always managed to escape me, one way or another. He had been eluding me, like a thought I couldn’t get a hold of.  
I pressed my fingers against his carotid artery. His heart was racing.

“What did you think when you saw me on the sofa?” I asked gleefully, “Did you think about a way to kill me?”

His eyes moved. Thinking back to our encounters, I never had managed to make him feel afraid. There was always a smirk in his face and a joke up his sleeve.  
A heap of slack muscles and the brain of a natural catastrophe. Fine, thin limbs, seemingly strengthless, yet he could move like a snake. Lean white.  
I turned away, hiding my face. It was awful. I didn’t know what I had done to deserve that.

_Maybe god will cover up his eyes_

Annoyed at myself, I violently dragged him to the tub where I dropped him in the hot water. A smirk spread on my lips. I really wasn’t myself tonight.  
I leaned over the edge and pushed his head down. No complaints, no attempt at defence, no sound. Just bubbles surfacing.  
I held my breath as well. I didn’t want to kill him.

It was silent. Nothing would have revealed his presence; the surface of the water was calm, as smooth as a mirror. Peaceful. Mirroring the options. A different world, free of that plague. I would have liked to get used to that thought.  
Then again, what would keep me from continuing?  
The people he had killed, the families he had destroyed, the earth he had soiled, everything screamed for a sacrifice. His white silhouette shone through the water, blurred and distorted.  
I never wanted to see him again.

More bubbles.  
I was getting short of breath.

No one would ever know.  
I exhaled and sucked in the air.  
No one would miss him.

_And I know it's not the right thing  
And I know it's not the good thing_

A bulk of bubbles destroyed the smoothness of the surface.  
I bit down on my lip.  
That wasn’t true.

_But kinda I want to_

I gripped some strands and pulled his head up.  
Coughing, wheezing and gagging, he showed up, water streaming down his face. Muscles contracted from the lack of oxygen; the toxin was wearing off. There was panic in his eyes.  
My heart was racing and I felt a pain in my chest. This wasn’t right.

I clumsily got up and pulled him out of the water, right into my lap. Together with him, I leaned back against the tub and held him, feeling him shaking in my arms. Life slowly returned to his body and he flexed his fingers, but he was still unable to move.  
Green strands stuck to his face, covering his eyes. His lips were glowing in a cold bluish tint. Still, he was frantically trying to get oxygen into his lungs.  
I hugged him more tightly, trying to give him some warmth since his body was feeling unnaturally cold despite the hot water.

He didn’t want to die. Always, it had seemed to me like he didn’t care whether he was alive or not; when bombs exploded right next to him I watched him whirling across the room with a grin and if he got shot he still cracked a joke. When he jumped from the building when we met the first time I was about to let him fall.  
He did those things because he knew that he could rely on me. We were like trapezists, in fact, knowing when to jump, where to be and when to catch the other.  
That demanded quite some routine. Routine and knowledge of human nature.

No, he didn’t want to die. He wanted to be saved.  
Those thoughts stirred a kind of sadness in me. Like me, he was the victim of a shattered past, assuming unhealthy roles and perpetuating the circle. I needed to save and he needed to be saved. We had been dancing all that time in perfect harmony, complementing each other. A perfect couple, batshit together.

As much as I had tried to get away from trying to save people as terribly had I failed. I still felt responsible for every child starving in the streets of Gotham and I still felt pity for every widow in Gotham; I couldn’t distance myself from it. Their pain was my pain because I knew what it felt like. Seeing things from that objective perspective now helped me understand him. A failed comedian, catcalled, stabbed right in his heart, apparently having lost everyone dear and loved, if there ever had been someone. He had accepted it and he had raised his hand to beg for help but no one had ever taken it to pull him out of the bog.

I hadn’t been any better. He had reached out for me when he had fallen but I was too late and fate had come hurtling down on him that night, turning him into a joke.  
My fault. Every time we met I still wanted to save him, desperately.  
Feeling his lifeless, heavy body weighing down on my chest drove me out of my mind. How could I ever make up for it?

We spent an eternity sitting there in silence and with every minute passing, my mind became more and more fragmented. Also when I was sure that he could move again he didn’t. If I hadn’t felt his ribcage moving I would have thought him dead. His hair was drying and the warmth returning to his body, slowly. The air was damp and I was sweating by now and though, I felt cold. So cold.

“Sorry,” I said into the silence. My voice sounded hoarse, coming from the globus in my throat which I just couldn’t swallow away.

At the slightest sign of him wanting to leave I would have loosened my grip and let him move...but he just wouldn’t. Not a finger, not a toe, not one single muscle moving. I feared I had permanently damaged his system with the toxin. Knowing that he was resistant to many toxins and chemical substances, I had been searching quite for some time to find something he couldn’t just cough away. Maybe it had been the wrong one.

“The worst party...I’ve ever been to,” he finally said in a husky voice.

His words were my salvation. He didn’t hold it against me.  
On the other hand, it was just proof of his utter desperation if he didn’t take offence at me trying to drown him. He would take any hand if it just saved him.

He moved, finally.  
Then, I wished he hadn’t.

The green parted and purple eyes appeared, scrutinizing me.  
I couldn’t stand his look. He was much too close for lies. Only one time I had felt so uncomfortable and vulnerable in my life and I was still trying to forget it.

_But kinda I want to_

“Why didn’t you kill me?”

Words spilling from his mouth, an open accusation. I was trying to figure out whether it meant ‘Why haven’t you finally freed me and done the world a favour?’ or whether it rather was about something like ‘Oh really? Now why did you save me? Tell me, lie down on the sofa, make yourself comfortable and associate freely...’  
He watched for any sign of emotion or change in my eyes but I managed to deal him a poker face.

“Why didn’t you kill _me_?” I returned.

His answer came without hesitation: “I was up for some fun.”

“So was I.”

“Liar.”

_But kinda I want to_

He made me behave like a schoolboy. Yes, that was a lie.  
I had sworn to myself to wait until he’d get up but I couldn’t bear it anymore. Gently, I pushed him to the side and headed for the exit of this situation when his voice filled my ears again.

“Finish what you started, you asshole!”

I stopped, realizing that I couldn’t escape. Not if I left this room, not if I left Gotham. I couldn’t shake this feeling from my head. There was a devil lying in my bathroom, watching me from across the way. I just couldn’t make that feeling go away by turning and leaving.  
I turned and looked at him.

Anger was in his eyes. He lay on the floor like a snake, limbs spread, yet muscles tensed, ready for action. Why was he so white. My eyes slid across his body, from his arms to his back, ass cheeks and legs.

“Like what you see?”

Malicious glee in his voice. Such a lame joke, but with me, it worked every time.

‘No.’  
Liar.

_But kinda I want to_

He was just doing it again.  
And I fell for it.

While I was searching for something clever to answer I looked him straight in the eye, trying to make him look away.  
But he was the Joker. He didn’t look away. He took it like a man. When I realized that I would never win that battle I did the only thing which would leave my honour intact.

“I’m done with the games,” I said dryly, turned around and left.  
I got me a bottle of wine from the fridge and then went to the living room, just a few steps away. My plan hadn’t worked out and now I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t realize that all the time, it had been the wrong plan I had been pursuing.  
Thus, now, I regretted having invited him. How could things have gotten so out of control? Oh, that question sounded familiar. It rang in my ears. After having woken up the next day with a hell of a headache and a green sock in my hand I had asked myself three words.

First, what. Second, the. And third, hell.

And I hadn’t learned anything from that. Stupidly, I had repeated that mistake of trusting him, no, I had even invited him! By now, I should have understood that whenever he was involved it meant chaos. Noisy chaos like buildings exploding, people screaming and burning to death, or painful chaos like knives meeting my kidneys and blood gushing out of my body.  
Or emotional chaos, like these two times. He was talented. Probably, he didn’t even know about that at all.

“Wayne! I’m getting cold ere!”

He did. I ignored him and poured myself a glass of wine.  
And back we were, gentlemen, beginning at the beginning again. Only that we weren’t stoned this time. However, I didn’t know what was worse; having a stoned clown in my house, feeling a stoned me up or both of us being sober and probably ending the same way.  
I didn’t want that.

_But kinda I want to_

“And I gotta pee!”

“Gods, shut up, you retard!” I screamed towards the bathroom.

I closed my eyes and pinched the brick of my nose. Just why. I emptied the glass and filled it up again. At that moment, I was glad that I had sent Alfred off to his aunt. He hadn’t seen her for a long time and he always was very thankful when I made him visit her. He didn’t dare to ask for a day off himself. If he had been there as well the evening would have turned into a catastrophe. I was sure about that.  
The glass was empty again and a third one followed.

“Boozing all alone there, you egoistic fuck?”

I jerked. Sharp words softly whispered into my left ear. I should have just killed him.

“You’ve done a line too much, eh, becoming relentless, batshit”

I wanted him to say more. Whatever it was, I enjoyed listening to his voice. For the record, after two glasses of wine. In this state, I was sure it was unique in this world; well, just like any other voice but there was more in it. I sighed. Assuming that he wasn’t wearing anything at all since I just knew that he had not taken a bath towel and wrapped it around his hips I tried to focus on the fire in front of me.  
Was he hard yet?  
Why should he be.

“So silent...”

Joker was playing around with his dick beside me. I couldn’t see it but I just knew it. The sky was blue, the night was black and Joker, well. He was the Joker.

I decided to play hard to get. It was futile, pretending that he didn’t matter to me. His reactions had told me that he was aware of his lasting impression on me so I didn’t have a choice if I didn’t want to have an egg on my face. If there was anything which I hated more than having wet dreams about the Joker it was being exposed as a liar. The entire topic was giving me a headache, but I had to deal with it now. In the end, I had been the one who had invited him.

He left his place and sat down on the table in front of me. His naked ass on the wood, his semi-hard dick resting between his thighs. Why was he so darn white.  
Every inch of his body told me that he was aware of how terribly arousing this sight was for me. There was no smirk in his face and though, I felt like he was laughing out loudly. In order to free myself of this magic deadlock I wanted to take another glass of wine.  
It was standing right next to his naked ass. I feared that he would take my hand or do something else which would just send me back into that hell.

I jumped from my chair as gracefully as I could and pushed him down on the table. His head hit the wood with a loud noise. With a hand closed around his throat, my other hand resting on his chest and my knee pressed against his balls I pinned him down.  
A wide grin mocked me the way it always did when we were fighting. I needed to clarify that subject of alpha and omega, once and for all.

“What are you trying to do?” I snarled at him.

He didn’t move and he even seemed to mock me with that. No defence, no objections. He drove me wild.

“Just sittn here,” he grated, fixing my eyes.

My fingers tightened around his throat and he tried to bring up a hand now but I took his wrist and slammed it against the table.

“Don’t you think I’m not seeing what you are up to,” I whispered into his ear, breaking the spell of his gaze. Then I loosened my grip a little, following the unwritten script of decent communication and social behaviour when talking to someone.

“What am I up to?”

He gasped for breath when I pressed down on his balls.

“Nothing good,” I commented.

His smirk returned despite me grinding his crotch.

“Have I ever been up to anything good, Wayne?”

“That’s the problem.”

“Why did you ask me out then, knowing that?”

Lost.  
Darn it, that thing about clarifying the roles had backfired painfully. Being at a loss for words, I pushed myself away from his body and sat down again. A few moments later, when he had caught his breath, he sat up as well. As much as I resisted the urge, I couldn’t help glancing at his dick.  
It was hard now.  
Just how could he.

_But kinda I want to_

“What are you thinking of?” I demanded to know. I wanted to force him into the awkward position finally because I was sick of it and, despite my first failed attempt, still eager to defeat him.

He lifted a hand and stuck his forefinger into his mouth, then slowly let it slide from it again. His tongue darted out to lightly touch the tip of it and then he closed his eyes and opened his mouth in a silent moan of pleasure, loudly sucking in the air.

I moved heaven and hell just to keep that pissed expression up and to not move at all. I would not let him win. However, I had no idea how I could chase him out of the house either. He clearly was in power tonight.

_Maybe just for tonight_

“Give in, you fool”

That which I hated most had happened. He knew exactly what was going on inside me, especially down there; his little show hadn’t left me untouched. I felt warm. Probably because of the wine.  
I closed my eyes and allowed myself to fall. Images of him moaning with pleasure, rolling his eyes in bliss and that white, that darned white, melting under my touch...

_We can pretend it's alright_

When I opened my eyes again he sat there still, not batting an eye. That bastard. I was at his mercy. His erection was just blooming but he sat there in silence, patiently, teasingly. Soon, I would have wasted my mental resources and I feared what would happen then. I tried to resist. I tried hard.

He looked down and touched the tip of his hard-on, making his dick twitch. What kind of self-confidence that man was displaying...it was a miracle how he could feel so self-assured when his skin was as white as marble, his hair as green as grass and his lips so red. He smothered me with his bluntness.

I didn’t feel so drawn to him because he was the first man I was seeing naked, no. I had seen many men naked, but I had to admit that it was the sheer fact that I was seeing a man naked who was my enemy; who was supposed to show up dressed in a purple suit and green shirt, feet dressed in expensive, taunting Oxfords and spats, hands gloved, never touching this world.  
And now he was sitting there, naked, in front of me. Someone who should have been dressed, someone who wasn’t supposed to be naked.

Worlds revealed themselves to me. That which had always been there, under the cotton, the leather, the silk, suddenly exposed to me. That white ocean, bounded by a sea of green, disrupted by a sinful red pool suddenly belonged to a different man. Eyes framed by black, like black diamonds, glistening white dots, framed by blackness again were perving on me. It was spilling from them, liberation, wantonness, lechery. He was free, not bound to anything, he had the licence to fuck whom he just wanted to fuck.

_What's the price I pay_

His erection was touching his navel. An hour ago, he had been lying on the bathroom tiles, somewhat dying.  
My neck muscles jerked and I turned my head to hide the involuntary movement. That happened when I was nervous and tried to forget that all eyes were resting on me. Usually during meetings.  
I closed my eyes. I had the right to fuck whom I wanted to fuck as well. Who would deny me that?  
Even if it was the Joker.

_I don't care what they say_

I opened my eyes again and glimpsed at his dick. Just now I got aware of the absence of what should have been there. The bastard had shaved his pubes. I closed my eyes again, getting aware of his intentions of coming again. Well, it was obvious, I had invited him but realizing that he had shaved his pubes because he was out for sex made me feel more confident, finally. There was something he wanted from me.  
Of course, I forgot that he also had something I wanted from him.

_I want to_

“Nothing of this...“ I started, but hesitated. Pronouncing that would have made me lose a third time.  
Yet, a broad, humiliating smirk told me that he got it anyway so I just said it.  
“...leaves this house.”

He knew that he had to consent to that secrecy, otherwise it would have ruined the magic. I had one or two tricks up my sleeve as well.  
I opened my eyes and bent forward, enough to make my breath hit his tip, reaching for the bottle to pour me the last glass of wine before it was empty. I knew the rules of that game and I could play it just as well.

Trying to make the wine flow into the glass I had to move even closer and my lips almost touched the glans. I snorted with laughter, thinking of the bath and how convenient it had been to bathe him before fucking him. You never know.  
His dick twitched, involuntarily, this time. Yes, I knew how to play the game.

The glass was full and I leaned back again, leaving his dick waiting in the cold air.  
I knew that I had to empty another bottle at least to fuck us into oblivion because doubts, especially self-doubts were still singing in my head.  
So I got up.  
Or I tried to.

I had underestimated the effects of a litre of wine and had to support myself on the leather chair. If he had laughed at that I would have gone to the kitchen and never come back again but he just watched me, unimpressed. Yet, I did go to the kitchen, got another two bottles from the fridge and another glass. It was embarrassing but I always made sure there were at least five bottles properly chilled.

I left the tobacco pouch where it was because I knew that if we had a smoke now I would just collapse, having had a bottle of wine all by myself. I would have wished to use it as well because it had facilitated things last time so nicely but it just wouldn’t make sense right now.

When I came back to the living room I almost dropped the bottles.  
He was lying on the table, fingering himself with one hand and with the other spreading the last drops of wine on his dick. My glass lay broken on the table; blood seeping from his fingers, mingling with the wine.  
Apparently, I had kept him waiting for too long.

_I'll take my chance tonight_

I put the bottles and the glass down on the floor and sat down again, watching him. His insanity turned me on.  
He got up on his knees and stuck his fingers into his mouth, licking them clean from the wine and blood. A third finger joined the other two in his ass.  
I filled up the second glass and placed it on the table. With his fingers still in his mouth he smirked at me, bent backwards and got himself the bottle. I wasn’t aware of him being so flexible.

“I can never catch up with you that way,” he slurred and with his fingers in his ass bent forward so that his head and chest were resting on the table, his bottom up in the air.  
He spread the ring of muscles and skilfully placed the bottle just above it. Additionally, he stuck his little finger into the opening of the bottle and pushed it past the sphincter.

I clenched my teeth. Unsure for a moment whether I should find that disgusting or enjoy it as the most wicked thing I had ever witnessed I held my breath. He didn’t spill much of the wine and that which he spilled trickled down his white thighs.  
If sin had a name it started with J.

Before I had decided whether it turned me on or off my dick responded instead of my brain. I gulped down my glass of wine, got up and joined him on the table, licking the wine from his thigh. He was panting heavily and his hand was shaking but I didn’t dare to take the bottle. I knew that if he took the finger out of the opening we’d never get it out of his ass again.

A moan of pain drew my attention to his face which was pressed against the table. He was still smirking but his forehead was in wrinkles. His shoulders moved and a strange sound came from his stomach. The wine was too cold. Struck by a kind of fascination I couldn’t quite explain I sank back into my chair again to watch him. Yes, I wanted that. I wanted to see him suffering.  
When he noticed my pleasure he gave a short laugh and shifted.

“I knew it...” he whispered against the table, his smirk growing.

The bottle was empty by now and he took it out of his ass, together with his fingers. When he licked them clean I closed my eyes, feeling my dick twitching.  
Enough.  
I unbuttoned my pants and wriggled out of them, not daring to get up again because I was sure I’d land on the floor in a very painful manner otherwise. To assure myself of my splendour though, I ran my fingers through my hair. It was wet from sweat.  
He was kneeling on the table still, breathing laboriously, working against the cramps, his hair sticking to his face, wet as well.

Beauty.  
Shamelessly, I needed to admit that. Long, lean arms, well-defined calves and thighs, his stomach...well, now bulging but I still could see the beauty of that as well, his chest giving a hint of the ribs, the collar bone...I didn’t dare to explore his eyes right now at all so I stopped at red. His lips were slightly parted. Full and tasty.  
For about half a minute, I explored his lips, fascinated by that odd shade.

He shifted again. Surely, it was very uncomfortable for him to have half a litre of cold liquid in a place where it didn’t belong, but it was my pleasure. I had hired him for stuff like that.  
He bent his head and his hair fell over his eyes. Then he placed his forearm on his thighs and propped himself up on his other arm. For a few moments, he remained in that pose till he straightened his back and pushed the hair out of his face. His eyes looked lost and his look was unfocused and vacant. He blinked, then turned his head to look at me. I couldn’t tell what he saw there. A smirk spread on his lips again and I was somewhat glad.

He looked befuddled but happy. His arm gave way and he almost fell down on the table. That awkwardness was a sight for the gods. I had never seen him act like this.  
Finally, I hit upon the idea to take advantage of that situation, the way I were supposed to, and I took off my shirt and knelt down behind him, not without, I need to remark, serious difficulties cause I was just about to fall from the table, had I not clung to him. I heard him chuckling. As intoxicated as he was, I granted him that laugh.

Grinning, I shoved a finger up his ass and squeezed his belly at the same time which made him double over. The urge of letting go must have been unbearable but he kept it to himself.  
When I drew back some wine seeped from his anus. A quick glance at his head told me that he had not noticed. I’d be in control of things within a second again. Forcefully, I pressed against his stomach and he complied by arching up. Meanwhile, I bent down and did something I usually would categorize as a gross nightmare from which I’d wake up, bathed in sweat.

A gasp escaped him and he tried to turn around, but I kept him in place. It was about time to teach him the ins and outs, literally. Undeterred by his reactions, I kept rimming him and with growing pleasure listened to his sounds of discomfort. He must have felt deeply embarrassed, considering the nature of his sounds, although it had been him starting the whole thing. In order to assure him of my good will I gripped his erection and gave it a few strokes. The blood and wine had dried on the glans which caused some unpleasant friction but it couldn’t have been worse than the thing going on behind him.

He started another wretched attempt to change his pose but I didn’t let go. He was strong, but I had got the drop on him, only being drunk while he was completely sloshed and troubled by the content of his bowels. His choice. He’d have to pull it through.  
Another desperate groan made me stop though. I enjoyed his distress but I didn’t want to drive him over the edge.  
Not yet.

Just when I straightened myself he reached for my arm and jostled me away so that I finally fell from the table. While I was trying to assess the new situation and perspective I heard a squelch.  
Before I could think about it twice my curiosity won and I sat up to watch the spectacle.  
A dark red fountain welled from his ass. Suddenly getting aware of how close I was I got up and took a few steps back. Whiteness convulsing in pain and relief.  
It didn’t take long and the wine had come to light again. Exhausted, he let himself fall down on the table, panting hard.

Following a sudden notion, I took him on my arms and dumped him on the rug in front of the fireplace. He was heavy but I had already carried heavier goods.  
For a few moments, he remained silent and didn’t move; I could see him trying to figure out how he had come to lie on the floor all of a sudden within a second. It made me chuckle. When I had calmed down again I, almost as drunk as him, knelt down between his legs to seize the moment and take another proper look at him.

Even the skin of his balls was so white that the veins seemed to be black. Well, after that kind of extensive foreplay they were rather of a blue colour. Grinning, I gave them a squeeze which drew a moan from him. He bucked and took my hand, but I broke free, took both his hands and pinned them down above his head.

“Blue balls? You were the one who started that show. If you touch me once more you will find yourself on the doormat and you yourself can wank the shit out of you,” I snapped at him.

He didn’t react to my words at all but just stared at me with pupils as big as his eyes. Then, slowly, a smirk spread on his lips.  
I let go of his hands, spread his legs and knelt down. Yes, I would tease the hell out of that man. It was liberating, somehow, not needing to save anyone but to bring hell upon him. It was just the opposite of the role I clung to so desperately every day, every night, every moment of my life. Yet, with him, I could step out of it and assume a different one.

Lightly, I touched his inner thigh and watched him throwing back his head. His testicles must have hurt terribly by now and still, he seemed to enjoy it. Sneering, I grabbed his balls again and squeezed. He commented that with a desperate moan.

“Please...”

I looked up. Seriously, had he just begged me to stop?

“What?” I asked and bent down to take them into my mouth.  
Hard, full and so tasty.

“Aah...please...”

I let go of his jewels only to tease him some more.

“Can’t hear you,” I breathed against them.

“Please!” he yelled, a jolt going through his body when my lips touched his dick.

“Please what?” I replied and with blatant glee bit into the pie.

I loved it when he writhed with pain. Admitted.  
That reminded me of my own situation when my dick piped up as well. My testicles surely would hurt when we’d be through but it didn’t matter right now. I was well-trained when it came to holding back because I sought to give every woman her ultimate pleasure, gentleman that I was. I’d easily bear it for another half an hour but he was at his limits. And under my control.

I got up and disappeared in the kitchen, leaving him alone.  
When I came back he hadn’t changed his pose at all. His eyes were resting on me, following me. They were glistening with lust.  
I put the bowl of water down beside him and closed my fingers around his dick, bending it.

“I surely won’t suck that filthy dick,” I explained matter-of-factly, hoping that the sheer words would make his imagination run amok.  
And it did. He turned his head to the side and clenched a fist.  
I wetted the cloth and started rubbing the blood and wine off his dick. He didn’t say much during the first five seconds, then he couldn’t hold back anymore.  
He sat up and gripped my wrists, breathing harshly, looking at me with bloodshot eyes. In return, I glared at him.

“I said you can leave if you touch me again,” I hissed, finally having found my role and having made myself comfortable within that.

He didn’t say anything but just looked at me with greedy eyes for a moment, then his grip loosened and overwhelmed by the situation I forgot to follow the rules and took his chin, pulled him closer and kissed him. Our tongues met and fought for dominance in his mouth until I moved closer and ended the fight by biting his upper lip.  
Our dicks had met again in their old fashion and were pressed against each other. It was about time. I let go.

“What do you want me to do,” I whispered against his lips.

In order to make it easier for him to voice his wishes I lowered my head, hiding my eyes from him. I could feel his breath on my forehead.

“Fuck me hard, fuck me till I bleed”

“Then turn around”

“But I want to see you”

“Fine then”

Without any further words, I shoved two fingers up his ass. It was still wide enough for instant sex, no further stretching needed.  
I positioned myself on top of him and took his legs to get them over my shoulders. If he wanted it that way he’d get it that way. I took my erection and placed it just in front of his anus. Then I licked my lips and waited, savouring that image. I knew that he was impatient for the collision.  
He didn’t let me down. Desperate anger, need.

“Goddamn it, Wayne, just-“

I shoved my dick in as forcefully as I could, balls deep, making him gasp and arch up. As stretched as his ass had been, he surely hadn’t been prepared for that. That was what I considered a Hard Fuck.  
Huffing and puffing, he slowly sank down again and my dick slid in further. I closed my eyes, trying not to come at the very sensation of being inside him. He seemed like doing his best to not sink into total chaos either. I had never taken anyone’s virginity more violently in my whole life. On the other hand, I wasn’t sure whether he still was an ass virgin.

I shifted a little and made myself comfortable in his ass, then I leaned forward, bending his legs as much as he permitted it.

“You still a virgin?” I smirked into his face. I was drunk enough to ask him that and I would regret it tomorrow. If I remembered at all.

He, busy with sorting out the different sensations and putting them all together, needed a moment to process that. He took a handful of hair and pulled me closer till our lips almost met.

“I guess you’re not the only boy for me”

The malice in his voice materialized and formed a big black clot. The derisive smirk accompanying these words didn’t make it any better either.  
I couldn’t help the feelings breaking loose inside at hearing that. As needy as I had been, it all vanished within a second. Empty.  
My face must have changed because his smirk faded as well. He let go of my hair.

“Kidding” he added; insecurity showing in his eyes.

We had gone too far than to deny anything. He was a liar, a pretender as much as I was one and both of us knew. I wished I had never asked him or he had never answered since jealousy was even worse than getting turned on by him. I felt so troubled all of a sudden that I was about to draw back when he took my arm. I looked him in the eyes. What I saw shocked me.  
There he was; he, beneath the white and green, beneath the suit, beneath the contrived insanity and evilness; raw, honest and original.

No joke, no embarrassment, no insecurity, no doubt. He, with his many ideas, creativity, experiences and a touch so gentle that it almost had made me cry the first time, was opening up right in front of me.  
And that all just because I had shown him that he mattered to me. I had often tried to save him, I had reached out for him, in the pouring rain, but he had never taken my hand. Wrong time, wrong place. Now, with nothing around us but ourselves in our most primitive, original states, he allowed me to look at the core of his soul.

I didn’t know what he was seeing or thinking during these moments but he held still, his expression not changing at all. He was fully aware of his exposure and he even guided me through the labyrinth of his mind, calmly holding still and allowing me to dive deeper.  
And suddenly, the self-confidence, the strong-mindedness and the grandness of his real self hit me full-on.

What had the world done to him that he hid it.

I got lost in his world. Whenever I turned around, wherever I turned around, I found him looking at me with a will that had no equal. Layer by layer flaked off and he invited me to take a glimpse of his self. Hypnotized by those vibes he was oozing, luring me out of myself and pushing me into the darkest and most secret corners of himself, I forgot that we were still connected in a physical way as well. Only when he contracted his sphincter, accompanied by a half-a-second-smile I got aware of me still being stuck in him.

I loudly sucked in the air and travelled backwards at high-speed, leaving his soul space as pristine as it had been before I had entered. I had made sure to doff my boots before entering. He waited until I had somewhat regained my composure, then he propped himself up on his elbows.

“Like what you see?”

No joke, no embarrassment, no insecurity, no doubt.  
I couldn’t say anything; I felt like a fool. Compared to him, I still had to learn so much.  
I even started to see the logic behind his chaos.  
He refrained from saying anything else because he must have noticed my crestfallen expression. He was way ahead of me and my intellectual development. Yet, this was not the right time for self-doubts. The fact that he had come a second time and still was here told me that he didn’t care who of us was doing intellectual flights or rather going in circles.

I freed myself from his all-devouring embrace and bent forward to kiss him. It was different. Keeping those newly acquired insights in mind, I kissed him like never before. He responded tenderly, cupping my cheek with his hand, touching me gently.  
And then, he did it again. My dick twitched at the sensation and my kiss turned rough. Back to business.

While kissing him I moved my pelvis and drew a long moan from him, right into my mouth. I dug my nails into his flank and he jerked, contracting his muscle again. I was still drunk enough to think sideways and I tore his skin, making him cringe and embrace my dick again. Pursing my lips, I pinched his nipple and just waited for the next contraction, enjoying the ass job. It was difficult for me to hold back but a quick glance at his face told me that he wasn’t doing any better either.

His cheeks were flushed and he just needed a love tap to let go so I reached for the wet cloth with which I had cleaned his dick and wound it round his neck. He opened his eyes and looked at me, confused, but I knew what I wanted. Some more dominance.  
I pulled at the ends and he gasped for air, bringing his hands to his throat and trying to loosen it. Within a second, his attempts turned more frantic and I let go, a little, to keep him from a heart attack. His eyes were fixed on mine and if it had been possible at all his pupils had even grown. We were communicating by glances, no need to destroy everything with words.

I rode him hard and when he had recovered from the first shock and his dick leaked precum I tightened the noose again and with a desperate cry he came. Muscles tightened, fingers dug into my thighs and his mouth spilled sounds I never could have thought of. What a sight. His ass tightened and I finally gave in as well and a gush of semen hit his chest.  
One moment of synchrony, unison, heavenly oneness.

A wheezing sound reminded me of letting go. Coughing, he turned to the side without dropping my dick. I was breathing hard, lingering over that moment, still. He was perfect. Whatever it was, he was in for it. And to top that he wasn’t ashamed of it at all; he did it with such confidence that it seemed natural to him, stealing everyone’s thunder.  
I looked down at him. A heap of trembling, tortured flesh. It was unbelievable that I had fallen for the Joker’s charm.

“Now...” he panted, barely able to talk “that we sweated out the alc...”

He laboriously turned around to face me again, my dick sliding from his ass finally. He was lying on his back now like a helpless turtle. I felt drained myself and my balls hurt, as predicted.

“I think we need more...or something else.”

What a dope whore. Had I turned him into that?

“You wanna shove that up your ass as well?”  
I pursed my lips to keep myself from laughing.

He looked at me for a moment, befuddled, then a grin flashed over his face.

“Could be worth a try.”

 

It was these moments when I doubted what I had glimpsed.  
The grandness, for example.  
In the end, he still was the Joker.

 

_______________


	3. Diary entry 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the second night at the manor Joker is deeply buried in thought and gets lost in literary effusions.

_____________

16th of May-hem, Sunday Funday

Been to Wayne Manor again.

It started out like a nighmare. The first thing he did was givin me with some shit that paralyzed me. He made me naked in the bathroom and almost drowned me in the tubb.  
Then, things got out of kontrole. He left me to get drunk in the living room but I flowed him. He pretended to not be interested but why had he invited me to come to his place again, then again? I accepted the challenge, challenge accepted. He was unwilling first. It is Bruce Wayne, keep that in mind. 

Eventually, he couldn’t resisst me anymore. I always win.  
I did something stupid, poured half of the wyne down my ass to get shit plastered. He showed me his real self then. I’ve always suspected him to be one of them. He turned the thables and teased the hell out of me to the point it got painful. Still HRTS.  
However, there was a moment when he, real HE broke through. I had always been suppressing my feels for him. I wouldn’t admit it. But that moment revealed the true nature of them when he broke through the shurface. He wanted to get to know me.  
ME.

I let him glimpse me, the real me. He seemed Overwhelmed.  
I don’t show it to anyone, I never did.  
I never trusted anyone enough for that but this evening, things just fell into place.  
He treated me with respect and kare and that was all I needed. He took it and karefully wrapped it up, neither laughing nor turning away. Nothing had ever been more Honest and purer than that moment.

And it changed everything. I had never seen him with such eyes. Things had always been crude. CRUDE. Physical, yes, yes, but not in that way. He was still in my ass and I loved it.  
I have never felt so close to anyone. Confess it. And I have been hard all the time, dirty, fucking piece of shit.  
But something was missing; I was afraid I’d never come. Embarrassment, shame, guilt and doubts. E, s, g, d.  
He took those feelings and transformed them by acceptance. He took me just the way I AM. All my life I had wished for that, for someone who could just sea beyond, tickle my real self outta me and touch it gently and karefully.

And he took everything I gave him, he didn’t condemn me. All of my aktions, words and gestures were Honest and he appreshiated them.  
I felt free. There wasn’t any fear of letting go anymore, of embarrassment or worthlessness. Wholeness. Just a natural rightness.

Then, he fucked me into ORgasm.  
During those moments I felt like knowing his body In and Out. Nothing unfamiliar, avery inch, avery cell, avery move felt like I knew it.  
Now I know what bliss feels like. His acceptance of ME, how I akted, what I felt, what I needed and what I gave and took; he accepted it and that helped me a lot. And being what I AM and by that pleasing him was a unik experience. No doubts, no shame, no wrong. Nd, ns, nw.

Love is a beautiful thang. He was very konsiderate of me, giving me time, karessing me, knowing how and where to touch me. For a moment, I was glad he was so Xperienced and guided me.  
Now I see a kinde of beauty in his body I had never seen before. I embraced him with everything I had and he took it and cherished it. He never gave me the feeling that I was doing something Wrong or Inappropriate. He took it all. And I love him for that.  
Beauty, fragileness and vulnerability. B, f, v. He took it like a vessel, mirroring me and liberating me.  
I love him.  
But don’t you tell him about that.

 

________________


	4. Whiteout

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Joker meets Bruce Wayne again who helps him discover new areas of that newly found rabbit hole.  
> However, this time, it's not all plain sailing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credits: Lyrics of the song “Never let me down again” by Depeche Mode, written by Martin Gore.  
> 

**Whiteout**

_Dear orgasm,_  
_you might want to visit us again sometime!_  
 _Your friends,_  
 _J and Bruce_

 

„Undress.“

That single word already sent a shiver down my spine. Things between us would never be the same ever again. After our previous meetings, I had accepted the fact that this man was the most interesting thing in my life right now and that if I denied that I’d be deprived of some of the most pleasant hours of my life. No backing out anymore.

_I'm taking a ride  
With my best friend_

And I kept silence about it. Imagining the Batman or Bruce Wayne, it didn’t matter in the end, announcing to Johnny Onny, Jacky Dacky and the sort of guys that the Joker, their boss, was an anal whore who enjoyed getting fucked as violently as possible, didn’t exactly put me in a cheerful mood.  
Me and him, silence. Agreed.

He repeated that word, impatiently, and I did as he told me and made sure to do it as slowly and teasingly as possible. Wayne sat in his chair by the commode and watched me, arms crossed.  
I never had considered my body beautiful. Average, rather. And the fact that I had been dipped in white hadn’t served to heighten my body awareness at all. I was a walking parody of beauty, in fact. Always, I strived to hide as much of it as possible, wearing gloves and even spats over the socks; hats to cover my hair, occasionally, when I felt really bad about it all.

Yet, that man had looked at my body in a way I hadn’t expected or ever counted on. He treated me with respect, even when he hurt me. That was a grotesque thing, but I could feel the care even when he damaged my body. During the last month, my perception had changed slightly. I accepted the fact that in his eyes, I was beautiful and slowly, I learned to feel that way about me as well. He was my cure.

_I hope he never lets me down again_

When I dropped the pants his eyes immediately fell to my crotch. I enjoyed it very much to be capable of drawing such interest to me. When the shoes and socks were gone as well I stood there, waiting for more instructions. He took the time to savour the sight, then he told me to lie down.

_He knows where he's taking me  
Taking me where I want to be_

The bed behind me was huge; the blanket, sheets and pillows black.  
He got up and approached me. I was curious as to what would happen next. He took a black scarf out of the back pocket and blindfolded me. My world went black and instantly, I felt afraid, but I did my best to not show it. However, it did show. My dick shrivelled to the size of a dried pear. Paralyzed, unable to move, I waited for what would happen next.  
My wrists were taken and a rope wound around them. When he pulled on the ropes I had to comply, spreading them. He did the same with my legs and spread-eagled me.

My heart was racing since a kind of existential angst had taken over and I was breathing through my mouth, unable to hide my insecurity anymore.  
The mattress moved and something touched me on my belly. I jerked, immediately feeling embarrassed at that. Still, I wasn’t used to touch and in this situation, it rather freaked the living hells out of me.  
His hand touched my inner thigh and my reaction was the same, this time just more vividly.

“Don’t be so tense”

Whispered into my ear. That low voice. It only served to make me blush in embarrassment. I was utterly at his mercy, unable to see and move and defend myself, forced to take what he gave me.  
I turned my head away and pulled at the rope, feeling the strong urge to free my arms and get out of that vulnerable position.

The mattress moved again and I heard him leaving the room. Those moments of silence turned out to be one single pool of horror. Had I angered him with my reactions? Had I disappointed him? Had he glimpsed something which I didn’t even know of and could even less know of, now, that I was blind?

_I'm taking a ride  
With my best friend_

He returned and one moment later I had something between my lips. I knew that scent. Boldly, he held my nose and I had to inhale through my mouth. When I had done so he removed it and the sizzling sound told me that he took a drag as well.  
The next time he stuck it between my lips he didn’t hold my nose anymore and I did it deliberately. Three more times, then he left the room again only to come back a minute later.

_We're flying high  
We're watching the world pass us by_

During that minute, I felt warmth spreading again. The blackness in front of my eyes grew and felt heavy. I was just diving into the universe, feeling black diamonds materializing and dissolving again. The fear left me and I could breathe freely.  
When I heard his footsteps a joyful anticipation claimed my mind and my nipples grew hard. He really knew how to handle me and he made me learn about myself.

“Better?”

The word merged with his lips as they closed around mine. Full and luscious flesh caressed my mouth and his tongue gently explored my cavern. I let it happen, getting lost in his closeness. The pain I felt at him pinching my nipple made me gasp into his mouth. He let go and brushed over my chest and flank, drawing a rippled moan of pleasure from me. I would just come from his touch, so I feared.  
Fingers pushed through my lips and collected spittle. It was spread on my dick and he gave me a few strokes which made it grow immediately. His fingers slid over my balls, then they left, together with him.

Silence. Growing anticipation, craving and impatience.

Something hard pressed against my lips and I opened my mouth. The ball gag pushed past my lips and was fastened behind my head. Unwillingly, I pulled at the ropes again, falling the victim to a fit of thrill and fear again.  
I could feel his breath on my face; he must have been close to me, looking at me, enjoying my confusion. Even if I had been able to talk I wouldn’t have managed to say something or give the slightest sound.

“Love you”

Two words, whispered into my ear.  
Two words which caused a pang in my guts.  
Two words which changed the world.  
Two words which freed my soul.  
Two words I would never forget.

_Never want to come down_  
Never want to put my feet back down  
On the ground

And then, horror shot through my veins. Earplugs, one after the other, were placed inside my ears. I tried to shake my head and keep him from that, but he violently pushed my head against the headboard, nipping all attempts of resistance in the bud.  
My muscles started twitching and I clenched my fists, feeling the rope cutting my flesh. My breath came in fits and I was torn between panic and excitement. A high sound was ringing in my ears, but other than that, it was completely silent. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t see, I couldn’t talk, I couldn’t hear. Hot panic benumbed me.

His fingers touched my belly again and I reflexively jerked, muscles tensed from the thrill. I clearly saw him in front of my eyes, his eyes drunken with lust and power. Suddenly, euphoria kicked in and I gave a muffled sound of arousal. With my eyes blind, my mouth silent and my ears deaf I felt his touch doubly as intensely, one second of contact stretching to eternity.

Cold leather lay down on my chest and I was lifted into the air and laid down again; leather placed on my back as well. I felt him working on something on my chest and then it went tight.  
Tighter.

And even tighter.  
My breathing was restricted and I panicked again. He quickly reacted to that by kissing my upper lip and caressing my flanks, pulling me out of the dark and back to him.  
I could hear myself breathing; loudly and fitfully, trying to accommodate myself to that sensation. His hands moved towards my pubes and I focused on his touch again, finally understanding the logic of these restrictions. He was in control, telling me what to see, what to hear, how to breathe and what to feel.

_I'm taking a ride  
With my best friend_

The need to touch him was unbearable. I made a desperate sound and pulled on the ropes for the hundredth time, feeling the thin strings cutting into my skin even deeper. He could have taken thicker ropes but I knew that he was using these on purpose, giving me just another bit of hell.

His tongue touched my belly and I threw back my head, moaning around the gag. He circled my navel and then went on with kissing my skin until he switched to violent sucking and biting. His hands were resting on my sides, grabbing my skin and tearing it apart.  
Too much. Despite that sensory deprivation I felt a load of images, sensations and feelings raining down on me, taking me to spheres I never had glimpsed in my life before.  
Silence, blackness and my limited breathing only served to heighten the impact of his actions.

My arousal had grown to an unbearable extent and I was struggling for air, my body demanding more oxygen to deal with the situation appropriately, but he denied me that. I started to feel lightheaded and the world took an unexpected turn. My attention centred around my genitals; I just wanted to be touched there, by him. Nothing else mattered anymore, no restrictions, no fears, no me anymore. I had become pleasurably fragmented, existing only in that small spot of my hard cock. I could feel it resting on my stomach by now.

Please.

_I hope he never lets me down again_

The tip of his tongue touched my tip. I let go and let my body do what it needed to do, shoving my self aside and switching to a primitive and most original mode, free of thoughts, free of fear, free of pain.  
Just there, please…

His tongue circled my glans and I watched him with deepest pleasure. His hair was covering his eyes and his cheeks were tinged in red from excitement as well.  
Then, his lips closed over it. I arched up into the air, moaning loudly, spilling my mind freely in that small area of these few cubic centimetres of manifested desire. His hand cupped my balls lightly and my dick twitched, escaping from his mouth.  
His breath hit my tip and he stretched the moment to the maximum, lightly touching the skin with his tongue from time to time, teasing the living daylights out of me.

And then, pain took over. He bit my inner thigh so hard that the pain poured from my nose, the lightheadedness worsening. At the same time, I was begging for him to stop and begging for more. It was always about this sick wish to stop and carry on simultaneously which gave me the thrills.  
Yet, he did stop and left.

I gave an angry growl, now being left alone in the middle of divine dissolution.  
However, soon, he returned and sat down between my legs.  
Cold metal made me gasp. My balls were pulled away from my body and something clicked. He let go of them but they didn’t move up to their original position at all. Cold, heavy metal kept them from my body. The sensation almost sent me over the edge.

He gave me a few minutes to get used it and to pull myself together so I wouldn’t just come at him touching my belly again.  
A ring of metal closed around my aching dick and sent me into Nirvana. I was so terribly hard already, yet, he had given me a cock ring to make it all worse again. I protested by violently pulling on the strings and writhing in a mix of pleasure and pain.

One earplug was removed and the gag was taken from my mouth; yet, I couldn’t breathe freely because the strap was still wrapped around my chest.

“What do you want?”

The words took some time to seep into my brain. A bubble of defiance and glee welled up inside me. Smirking, I replied breathlessly: “A glass of water.”

It was silent then. Without a further word, he left the room.  
When he came back I really thought I’d get what I had asked for. And indeed, I got it.  
Cold water hit my stomach, splashes hitting my cheeks even.  
I cried out in shock but hurried to calm down, seeing golden spots in front of my eyes already.

_Promises me I'm safe as houses  
As long as I remember who's wearing the trousers_

“Anything else?”

Well, that had backfired.

“Cold,” I pronounced with chattering teeth, my muscles twitching randomly.

He left again. Whenever he did that I became painfully aware of my situation again.

Hotness hit my chest and I wound myself in pain. More drops of hot wax hit my stomach and I struggled for air, the sensations overwhelming me. Then, I started to hyperventilate. I couldn’t help it. Desperately, I sucked in the air and kept it there. Writhing in utmost despair, I felt close to losing consciousness and just about in time he loosened the strap around my ribcage.

I bent forward as much as possible, wheezing and shaking. Fingers closed around my glans and I fell back into the sheets again, helplessly overcome with pleasure.  
With his other hand, he removed the second earplug and took away the scarf.  
The sight made me freeze.

Shiny blue eyes, full of lust, glared at me. His hair was wet, sticking to his skin, his mouth slightly open, inviting me in. He was naked; his erection pressed against his stomach as well.  
When I finally managed to look down I felt that pang in my guts again. The sight of my dick and balls framed by shiny metal made me fall into worship.  
He grabbed a handful of flesh and squeezed, drawing my attention to my body again, but I couldn’t avert my eyes. I had never seen him like that. Each time we ran into each other brought me a set of insights and surprises.

Driven by nothing else but lust, he still glared at me, waiting for me to settle down but I couldn’t. He was breathing heavily, his ribcage moving and suddenly drawing all attention to it. I had never looked at his nipples at all and now, they caught every and all of my attention. Immediately, images of me licking and sucking them tore at my mind, circling them with my tongue and just then, I felt the solid metal getting uncomfortable. I shifted a little in sour trouble, helplessly looking at him, lost in things which just tore me apart, to the left, to the right, to nowheres.

He laughed; a loud shattering sound filled my ears which had gone without the slightest hint at reality for so long and now they couldn’t bear it, thus. I pressed my head against the pillow and merged with it, feeling my head melting and floating into the cotton feathers. Quite a new feeling.  
While I was busy sorting out my limbs and the accurate nerve ends which needed to be triggered correctly, he engulfed my dick, wholly, without gagging.

“Shit,” I pressed forth and disappeared in the pillow cotton worlds, both ends of it closing above me, veiling me in whiteness. A whiteout.  
His nipples came to my mind again, where had they been? They had been there and suddenly, I-  
When he circled my glans I gasped for air, feeling a sweet kind of electricity seizing my entire body and making me twitch uncoordinatedly.

_I hope he never lets me down again_

Desperately, I reached out, reaching into nowhere land since I still couldn’t see anything. Well, by now, I suspected him holding the pillow against my face anyway, he himself. I could not have manoeuvred myself into this awkward position. No, right?  
My balls bounced out of the metal ring when he opened it, at least it felt like that. Waking and aching, they unfolded again, I could even feel them moving. And he did the worst thing in the world then, fully knowingly: He squeezed them tightly. The pain that embrace unleashed sent me into orgasm.

I released a scream of ecstasy into the soft white and unloaded. Everything shut down around me but that one spot in front of me and sheer bliss rippled through my body. The bliss mingled with pain and I rode the wave a little longer, eager to stretch it to an unhealthy point. He helped me with that by fervently pumping my dick and swallowing all that I gave. His face appeared in my mind and with a last, desperate groan I turned to the side, shaking.

The cotton was taken from me and cold air tickled my skin. Every single strand of my hair seemed like having gathered in front of my eyes and I still couldn’t see anything.  
A tender swipe moved them to the side and he appeared, gleefully smirking at me.

“I love that look,” he cooed and gave my dick one last squeeze. I gave him what he wanted to see, closing my eyes and producing a short, deep moan which aimed at soothing the aching spots.  
He looked ready to come, more ready to come than possible. Tenderly, cotton woolly bliss lay down on me and spread everywhere. Warmth and an agreeable feeling flooded me.

The warm urine welled from my dick like the wells in the ancient Gardens of Semiramis, streaming down his fingers and my thighs.  
When I realized that I was just peeing myself I sat up as much as I could and hoped to see my dick dryly retreating and nothing else.  
But reality wasn’t as kind to me.  
That man that claimed to accept me the way I just was was lying on the bed; roaring laughter shattering my ego.

‘I just tried to see how far I could go’ wouldn’t be a good quote right now and I pushed it aside, trying to reanimate my dying ego in other ways. When I had found a promising thought I clung to it and repeated it: I am the Joker, I can do anything I just please.  
At first, it sounded like a sorry excuse, then it assumed the shape of an acceptable lie and finally, it was the perfect explanation.  
Defiantly, I looked at him, waiting for him to meet with my eyes.

Yet, when he did and noticed that look in my eyes he went silent, his muscles cramping up due to a wave of laughter which was just too much than to be released at once, his diaphragm protesting. He had his mouth opened wide, his eyes tightly shut, silently pressing his head against the sheets. He finally inhaled long and loudly and then he burst into side-splitting laughter.

I had never minded the tragic side of my own jokes when I was up for some nonsense, wearing two guns, one of them real and one of them a BANGy joke and finally grabbing the joke gun and killing him with that plastic flag. I aimed to cause laughter, just no one ever laughed at my jokes. And now that I had one laughing I disapproved of it. Well, because it hadn’t been a joke at all.  
The liquid turned cold. I thought him capable of letting me sit in my pee for at least an hour before he’d have mercy with me.

When he was done he sat up, drying his eyes with the sheets. With slightly lifted eyebrows, I glared at him, trying to put as much toughness into that look as possible. He pinched the brick of his nose and abruptly froze.  
That served him right. He had not wiped his fingers clean and it hadn’t dried as fast as he had hoped for.

“Taking quite the piss out of me, eh?” I snarled, fully being aware of the funny side of it. If I cracked a joke about my miserable state before he could do so he wouldn’t be able to take all the credit for his next joke.

“You just peed on my parade, in fact,” he repeated with a more serious voice than he was supposed to.

I tugged at the ropes, for a change, which drew his eyes to them. He straddled my legs and took my heels to lift them up.  
But something else happened.  
With a loud noise, the huge doors hit the wall, both of us jerked und felt our hearts leaving our bodies in shock at hearing someone entering the room.

“Master Bruce?!” a low, loud voice of doom echoed through the room.

Said Master froze, with pupils as tiny as pins. I had no other choice, still tied to the bed, than to do the same.

“What..the..heck,” he yelled, pronouncing every word so slowly that it made the feeling of guilt a hundred times worse, “is happening here?!”

_Never let me down_

He had arrived by the bed now, yet, he didn’t dare to confront both of us with his angry person since he stopped behind Master Bruce, who was looking at me in a mixture of amusement and panic.

“What in...” the Butler peered over his Master’s shoulder and saw me, “God’s name...good lord...Master Bruce...”

Then, he saw his hard-on.

“GOOD LORD, MASTER BRUCE!” he exclaimed and took a step back.

Master Bruce’s face slipped and he tried hard to choke the laughter. My heels slid from his hands and I hurried to get my legs together to hide what could be hidden from that old chum.

“What in-“

“Will you stop now, you old hag?! I’m not a child anymore that must be watched!” his Master yelled back at him, clumsily descending from the bed and then finally planting himself in front of him.  
Alfred looked up and down his body, but just with his eyes.

“Master Bruce, may I remind you that this is the JOKER?!”

“So what?” I interjected casually, being highly amused at him pointing out rather my nature than his Master’s sexuality.

“Can’t I be gay?” I continued to tease the couple.

I could feel the anger pulsing through his veins and I could feel Bruce Wayne pressing his teeth together so hard that they’d still hear the echo in the 6th dimension.

“It’s not about you, you frigging-“

“Alfred!”

“You come to his defence, Master Bruce?”

The butler was shaking with anger.

“I thought you were with Miss Miglet, doing your veterans meeting,” Master Bruce tried to distract him. But the butler didn’t fall for it.

“Whose idea was that, huh, boy, I bet it was his, ain’t I right? What did he do to get you around? Not enough that he knows your identity, no, you are obviously taking great delight in this man’s depravedness! What does that make you?! Oh Master Bruce, if your parents knew...”

“Don’t you dare bring my parents up!”

“But really, Master Bruce, this is just in-“

“Hell, will you get out of here now?!”

Both were yelling at each other by now and I was still rotting in my piss. At worst, they’d forget that I was still here and would let me perish there till morning.

“And that? Ya smoked weed again, boy? What did I tell you about-“

“ENOUGH!!!” his voice almost sent him flying through the room.

I pursed my lips in false shame and real embarrassment. Wrong place, wrong time.  
Bruce Wayne’s erection bobbed up and down as he was gesticulating with all his body could just offer for gesticulation.

“I’m not disappointed,” the butler continued with a shark voice, “I just wonder-“

“You don’t have to wonder about anything! Leave us alone now!”

The butler gave him a ‘we will talk later’ look and then left, closing the doors behind him.

“Joke’s on you,” I commented, bringing him to erupt in a look which could have killed me, had he just looked at me for longer than a few seconds.

“But I can understand that poor guy,” I continued, grinding his gears, “when his Master makes around with a madman clown that has even pissed himself, HA”

A loud laugh escaped me before I was silenced by a kick into my side.

“YOU!!!”

“Well, in fact,” I groaned, “I came at your invitation, you know...”

I loved to fan the flames of anger and I succeeded, having him huffing and puffing until he just turned around and left, slamming the doors shut behind him. His ass was just so beautiful.  
Well done.  
I was left to rot in my pee till tomorrow morning.

_See the stars, they're shining bright_

Joke’s on me. Sighing, I tugged at the ropes again.

“WAYNE!!! GODDAMNIT, YOU ASSHOLE, UNTIE ME!!!”

I shouted as loudly as I could, my voice cracking and making me cough in anger and helplessness. Never would I have thought that one of my encounters with the dark knight would end like this, tied to an antique bed with post-orgasmic piss all over.

“You coward...” I added, still coughing.

I heard them yelling through the door. The thought of visiting Wayne again sometime soon made me smirk again. Surely, I was up for some fun, now that the joke was out of the bag.

“We had a fight and he just attacked me so I tied him up! What do you expect from me when I’m high, Alfred!”

I burst into laughter but hurried to calm down again, eager to not miss one single word of this delicate talk.

“Certainly more than this, Master Bruce, and I told you not to ever toke again! And will you now throw him out of ‘ere, will ya!”

“Just do it yourself if you please. It’s none of my problems or business.”

“Master Bruce!”

“Go fuck your ‘Master Bruce’, I’ll go to sleep now, I’ve already had more than I am willing to take tonight anyway. G’night, Al.”

Fucker. Liar. But a good one.

“WAYNE!!!” I screamed once again.

“SHUT UP!!!” I heard it wavering through the door.

Feeling myself being part of a little déjà-vu, I decided to play along.

“I’M COLD! AND PEE PEE PISSING!”

“FUCK YOU!!!” I heard it shattering across the entire mansion.

Laughing, I closed my eyes and waited for the dumb old butler to cut me free, with greatest displeasure.  
To my own displeasure, he never came and I spent the night there, tied up, wet, stinking.  
Served me right if I trusted in Bruce Wayne. What a traitor. But I would have done the same, had Harl ever caught me screwing the Bat, so I couldn’t really be mad at him.  
I’d just note it down under the header ‘Awfully funny tales of a man with red lips’. Or ‘Too funny for words, see the pictures’.

Eventually, I fell into a fitful sleep, dreaming and waking and confusing both states, dreaming of lying here on that bed and consciously lying there and dreaming until the sun set.  
In the morning, the butler tended to my needs with the most sour face I had ever seen. Muttering curses and Cockney slang words I didn’t understand, he cut through the ropes and my arms fell down, totally numb by now.

“...holy moddr...”

Eventually, I did understand something. My clothes were thrown into my face and gone was he again. It was going to be a long way out of this, not just out of this mansion. And by now, I doubted that I’d ever see Mr. Wayne again, if not on the other side of some window pane of his Wayne towers. I had gotten used to it. Strangely enough, I didn’t really feel bad for coming to him anymore. It had just gotten natural by now and just now, when we were about to have fun that old asshole peed on our parade. I wished him dead. I should’ve killed him back then. But maybe that would have kept me from meeting _him_.

I stumbled down the corridor, holding my pants, hoping to catch a last glimpse of Bruce Wayne. My legs and my arms hurt terribly from the long lack of blood and oxygen; every move hurt like hell and left my muscles stinging and aching. Though, I hurried to get to the door since I felt that old idiot staring at me with that knife in his hand still and I was sure he wouldn’t hesitate to stab me would I consider slowing down and looking for his dear Master.  
By the way, dear Master didn’t let him be seen at all and I took it personally.

Ashamed by having been exposed to that idiot and annoyed at that man dropping me like a hot stone, I looked down on the floor, my cheeks burning. Yes, I enjoyed these feelings because I hadn’t been sensing that for years anymore, neither embarrassment nor such anger. It made me feel alive, even though those were negative feelings.  
When I had made it to the front door I finally escaped and left that idiot behind. Maybe things would need some time to calm down again. Some day, it would all be water under the bridge.

However, I wasn’t sure whether I’d be able to resist him for so long. After all, the last thing I had seen of him was his delicious crotch, swollen to an agreeable size. Or well, no, it had been his unstretched ass. Those images wouldn’t leave me anymore. I wondered how he had gotten rid of his hard-on.  
Craving and fear took their turns as I walked down that road leading away from Wayne Manor. The fear that I wouldn’t see him again grew until it turned into almost absolute certainty.

I knew that if the butler didn’t want me around I’d never set foot on that ground ever again. If he just had showed himself to me for another time and I could have read his face to know what he thinks about that...but he had kept himself concealed. I didn’t know whether I could or should take that as a sign of rebuff. Anyway, I was so angry at myself for falling for him so totally and so sad at the same time, barely able to catch a more positive thought.

I looked up at the sky. Clouded. Discouraged, I stopped.  
Why had I spent all those years fighting him when I just could have loved him.  
Absurd ideas came to my mind how to keep meeting him, some of them being about skin transplantations and other surgeries; however, I lost all hope for that.  
After the gathering comes the scattering.

_Everything's alright tonight_

And suddenly, it didn’t matter anymore that I was soiled, hungry, tired and reeking of piss. Sighing, I sat down on the street, right in the middle of it. Within a few weeks, he had taken me, claimed me and crowned himself the king of my little kingdom. How had he managed to get so close, to invade my world and turn it upside down? The contrary feeling of that euphoria I had experienced just yesterday fell down on me like a hammer on a nail. I had to get away from him. I had to get him out of my head, out of my life again.

Determined to ban him from anything related to myself, I got up and continued walking.  
Five minutes later I painfully became aware of the fact that all my thoughts were poisoned by his presence. When I tried to think up a plan to rob a bank yet again he showed up after the first few moments already.

I walked home with a head full of batshit. There, I got rid of my clothes and took a shower, again haunted by him. It felt so good when he touched me, so good when he sucked me off, so good when he looked at me. Desperately, I jerked off, swearing to myself that it would be the last time. It felt so good when he just looked at me.  
Exhausted, I sank to the floor, letting the water flow down my face. I knew it wouldn’t be the last time. I had to get him out of my head, out of my life.

However, that wasn’t possible. By now, we were so inseparable, not just as two gay men but also as our other identities of the Batman and the Joker that there was only one way how to escape him. Not reasonable, but workable.  
The only way to do that was killing myself.  
It would take time. Preparations and patience and maybe I would realize that there was another solution as well but with him having ditched me and still haunting me in my daydreams I currently saw no other way how to escape him.

Besides, I would make his worst nightmare come true and I would return the favour and the pain; just that pain he had dealt me yesterday. He still felt responsible for what I looked like now and for the life I was wasting, according to him. Had he grabbed my hand everything would have been different, he thought so.  
Maybe.  
If I killed myself he’d lose. And the pain I felt now at having been left turned into a sweet one when I thought of his future sorrow.

I opened my eyes and looked up, struck by a sudden idea.  
I wouldn’t kill myself. Where was the fun in that?  
I’d pretend to kill myself.  
Right in front of his eyes.  
Smirking, I looked down again, my head already filling up with pleasant possibilities and delightful options.  
Feeling some strength returning to me, I got up and turned off the water.  
That was going to be fun.

 

_______________


	5. High voltage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Joker proceeds with his new plan to unsettle his lost lover and gets himself into a sort of trouble he never saw coming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Handle with care. It will make your dopamine level drop considerably...but maybe that is just what you want and need.
> 
> Lyrics from the song “Hey you” by Pink Floyd, written by Roger Waters.

**High voltage**

 

“Oh Master Bruce, don’t tell me you are doing that for Gotham!”

I knew exactly what that voice and look meant and I did my best to ignore it.

“Alfred, as long as he sucks my dick he won’t terrorize Gotham.”

A lame argument, but I was just sick of that quarrel and tried to get him all disgusted.

“Your word choice, Master Bruce! This is not the boy I know. I think that smoking really changed you!”

“You don’t get it at all, do you. Just because it was devil’s handiwork at your time doesn’t mean times have changed.”

“I can hardly believe that the effects of it have changed over time.”

“So you admit having tried it too?”

“Master Bruce, this is not what we are talking about now-“

“It is. Weed and the Joker’s prick up my ass, right?”

“Master Bruce. I beg you.”

“Look. You don’t need to get it. Whatever. I’ve got a meeting tomorrow and need the black suit, thanks.”

Bruce Wayne got up from the breakfast table and disappeared in his office room. Alfred gave a long sigh and sat down on the chair.  
He didn’t get it. Not at all. Neither of these things, although the second one certainly troubled him more than the first one. 

_Hey you_

Maybe his boy had been lacking a mother figure. He abandoned himself to self-recriminations until he remembered that his boy would need the black suit. With eyes cast down, he got the suit and went to the washing room. There, sheets soiled with the piss of his nemesis greeted him with a nasty smell.

“Goddarnit!!!” he yelled and threw the suit against the wall. He felt so desperate, feeling his boy slipping from him. Where would that end? Not enough that he had to imagine that white bastard passionately penetrating his Master’s ass and his Master enjoying that...no, he felt like losing him. When he refused to talk to him it was bad. Catastrophic, in fact. He knew that he had really vexed him then. When his Master wordlessly left, he knew that he’d be facing a hard time. Could be days, could be weeks until his Master would talk to him again.

Twice in his life he had been forced to go through such a time already and he cursed at just having triggered the third. But he knew so well that he was right and he would not cave in. He took the suit from the floor and put it into the washing machine. There was no way he could reach him during such times. Patience. That had always saved him. He would have to stand it, the silence.  
He would keep serving his breakfast, doing his bed, driving him, but just in silence. He wasn’t someone to give up that easily and whenever his Master returned to him, that look in his eyes, he knew that it had been worth it.

 

Elsewhere.  
Johnny Onny was given instructions. The Batman would come to him; he’d approach him at night again when he would leave the cafe. He was going to ask him whether he knew where the Joker was. Johnny was to answer that the Joker had known that he would ask about him and that the Batman should meet the Joker by the Coral Building, next Saturday, 7 pm. Plainclothes.  
Then, Johnny was to call the Joker and tell him that the Batman had been here.

Everything went down the way the Joker had predicted it. Batman had approached him on Sunday, late in the evening and after calling his boss, Johnny went back to the cafe to calm his racing heart with the help of three rum shots before he tended to the rest. When he had downed the rum he made another phone call, telling his gang to be ready at Saturday, 5 pm, Bankier’s Reef 3. Further instructions would be given on site.

 

Saturday, 6 pm.  
Alfred had driven me to the place. I had not explained anything to him and he didn’t ask. A crowd had gathered in front of the building and I didn’t dare to look at it at all. Definitely a nasty surprise. But I was responsible for that so I had to deal with it.

_out there in the cold_

Their eyes looked at the sky. When I lifted my head to look up a man caught my attention, standing by the edge of the building. I prayed that it wouldn’t be him but just the mayor or someone else.

_getting lonely, getting old_

Police officers came running towards me.

“Mister Wayne, he asked for you! Thank god you heard it on the news!”

“Yes, thank god...” I mumbled, staring at the tiny purple spot up there.

_Can you feel me?_

“What does he want?” I asked them, giving them a serious look. Inside, I felt like dying.

“Said he wants you up there, you only!”

“Master Bruce!”

I looked up again. I wasn’t afraid of the height nor of the danger, or that he would grab my suit and make me fly as well. I was afraid of looking into his eyes. Though, that situation didn’t allow for great thoughts since the officers already pulled me up the stairs.

“You don’t want him to jump?” I asked, following them up the fire exit stairs.

Breathlessly, one of them replied, “Sir, as much as we’d like to see that freak jumping and spilling his brains on the street after what he’s done to the city, we swore to save lives whenever we can.”

I frowned, smiling, then continued in silence. Right people for the right job. Finally up there, they stopped and I went to the door to open it. Before pushing down the handle I looked back at them again.

“Sorry. He just wants you up there. We’ll be here in case you need us.”

“Thanks.”

I opened the door and saw him standing by the edge, 10 meters in front of me. My heart skipped a beat, seeing him like that. In an awkward mix of fear and guilt I closed the door behind me and walked closer until he heard me and turned around. For a moment, I saw shock in his eyes but they soon narrowed and the usual gleam of glee returned to them.

“Nice of you to drop by,” he commented casually, the wind carrying his voice away, “no more!”

I froze, about three meters in front of him. He was different. His voice was different, his look and behaviour were different. There was distance between us, much more than those few meters. Something had gone wrong and I had to find out what it was.

Secretly, I was checking the situation, the options, the possible outcomes and all that.  
Too high. He wouldn’t survive.  
Too muddled, a deadlock. We’d not be able to solve this within a few minutes.  
Too determined. I wouldn’t manage to convince him at all.

“What are you doing there?!” I shouted, anger showing in my voice. I wouldn’t lie, understanding that I’d make everything just worse if I did so.

“What does it look like? Preparing for a barbecue!”

“Look, if you are upset because-“

“Or a dinner party! With stockfish, if I manage to hit the lantern just there!”

A broad grin unsettled me. I stared at him, not knowing what to say. He grinned at me for another moment, then his smile died away. 

_Hey you, standing in the aisles_  
with itchy feet and fading smiles  
Can you feel me? 

The wind whipped his hair into his face but he didn’t even blink.

“Why,” he asked, despair making his voice high and cracking.

I opened my mouth in sorrow but no word would leave it.

“You abused me,” he whispered into the wind which carried his words to my ears, “just a party gag”

His voice was toneless and empty.  
My chest ached. The longer I stared into these vacant eyes the more it felt like I was the one having jumped already and who now was falling. I couldn’t move, petrified by his emotions.

“Don’t,” was all I managed to breathe.

He blinked and that moment, so heavy and so horrible, seeped into my mind and I became aware of the inevitableness.

“And I didn’t even get paid,” he said. He tugged at the ribbon around his neck until he held it in his hand. He looked at it, then he looked up. My world broke.

That moment still went on and it drove me mad; just a second but I knew that it was over now. We broke the eye contact; he lifted his head and let himself fall back. His arms spread, embracing the certainty of death, and he disappeared behind the edge, the green ribbon leaving his hand, disappearing in the dark.  
Unbearable coldness and hotness shot through my body at the same time and I ran to the edge, almost stumbling and falling too, just to see his body falling like a stone. Moving closer and closer towards the pavement. I held my breath, feeling my mind defragmenting. It felt so unreal. 

Suddenly, a bright red spot appeared from out of nowhere, probably from an entry of a close building. Just a few moments later, his body hit the jumping sheet and disappeared in clouds of redness.  
With my heart beating in my throat, I stared at the scenery for another moment until I sank down on the floor, leaning against the step, cold sweat running down my face. I could barely breathe and my heart stung. Absentmindedly, I wiped my eyes and looked around, yet, perceiving nothing.

After another minute of absolute disorientation I managed to get up and sneak a peek at the scene down there.  
They were cuffing him and now pushed him into the ambulance. When I became aware of the consequences of this action I leaned down on the stone and reached for him.  
He was too far away by now.

_Hey you, don't help them to bury the light  
Don't give in without a fight._

The doors were shut and the car left the scenery.  
Slowly realizing that I had fucked up big times, I sat down again, bathed in sweat. The cold wind made me shiver.  
After some time, men stormed the roof. Arms lifted me up and supported me, dragging me down the many stairs to the ground where they leaned me against a lantern. I could barely keep myself on my feet, shock paralyzing my brain and limbs.

The green ribbon was lying on the wet floor a few meters away. Maybe it would come crawling to me if I just stared at it for long enough.

“Mr. Wayne, are you alright?”

Apathetically, I gazed at the officer.

“Mr. Wayne?”

_Hey you, out there on your own_

“Let me handle this,” a voice I knew so well said to my right.

Arms tenderly lifted me up and carried me to a car. I was put on the back seat, the seatbelt was fastened and then I got driven away from the scene, leaving many men wondering and asking questions which doubtlessly posed themselves after the events of this night.

“You got yourself in trouble,” he remarked, a joke up his sleeve. His first words after days.

I was still too shocked than to say anything. Wordlessly, I stared at the leather of the seats.

“Or excuse me, he got you in trouble.”

“My fault,” I whispered, all life having left my voice.

I heard a long and heavy sigh.

“Great, he just got you there. Don’t you see he’s playing with you?”

“I saw no satisfaction in his eyes.”

“Oh Master Bruce,” he said, then fell silent. He knew that he couldn’t appeal to my reason right now at all.

When we arrived at home he helped me to the door. He helped me take off my shoes and he helped me out of my suit. He helped me wash my face and he helped me lie down. 

He just couldn’t help me forgetting. With an unbearable emptiness in my head I lay in the dark, staring into darkness.  
I had made a mistake. A petty one, a funny joke, so I had thought, leaving him there, tied to the bed, wet and wondering. I pinched the brick of my nose. A joke.  
In the morning, I had still been asleep when Alfred had freed him. I was used to sleeping till 11 am when I didn’t have to attend any meetings and it had been Sunday anyway.  
A joke.

_sitting naked by the phone  
Would you touch me? _

I swallowed hard and felt tears running down my cheeks. Gritting my teeth in painful grief I turned to the side, shaking with the spasms of a silent crying fit.

 

___________

 

Without resistance, I complied when they pushed me towards the entrance of the madhouse.  
I knew what I had to expect and I was sure that it was the right thing to do to get him out of my head. That way, I couldn’t betray myself and visit him though. Walls as thick as men would keep me from that.  
Still, the same idiot was running the shop. Just when I had checked out three years ago it had been two wrinkles on his forehead and now it was a massacre. Chuckling at that sight, I passed him and stumbled into the wet room. As usually, they sluiced me down with cold water, threw some clothes into my face and then pushed me into my cell. 

It was my cell. No one wanted to take it.  
Amused at that, I got dressed and lay down.  
And then, the fun started. An armada of doctors and keepers entered; my body was pinned to the mattress and I was given multiple shots of shit which would make my head ache for the next week. I complained, shouting that that wasn’t necessary at all, that I’d be a good boy, but my repudiation spoke volumes.

“Sure, a good boy, right, does he say and burns down the kitchen, like last time, eh?” one of them mocked me and slapped my face. The keepers laughed, the doctors turned their faces away. I knew some of them but there were also new ones among them.

“Cause I like you guys so much I just wanted to make you some Neapolitan ice cream cake with raspberries flambé!” I yelled, laughing like a banana.

“I love him,” one of them said, smirking, yet, keeping my arm pressed against the sheets.

“How can you not love me,” I laughed, feeling lightheaded already.

“How can you...”

My voice failed me when I felt sickness wandering up my throat. I swallowed, breaking out in a cold sweat.

“You need not drug me...I...”

_Hey you_

I closed my eyes and groaned with discomfort. The hands left me and one after the other left the room.  
Silence. Dead silence.

_with you ear against the wall_

I curled up and gasped into the pillow, feeling heavy and sick.  
Right then, I remembered the cosy sheets of his bed. The happiness. I didn’t need those thoughts right now; they’d just make everything worse. Desperate enough to take extreme measures, I tensed up my ab muscles until I felt my head throbbing. I exhaled and did it again until my ears were ringing and golden spots turned up in front of my eyes.  
I closed them and fainted. 

_waiting for someone to call out_

When I woke up again it was dark. I didn’t know for how long I had been knocked out, but I hoped it had been long enough to escape the nastiest effects of those drugs, and really, I just still felt sick and a headache. Quite bearable.  
I was safe here. No one could hurt me.  
When I turned around I moaned. My right arm felt sore and I had just been lying on that side for what, days? Lying on my back now I looked at the ceiling. There used to be a lamp.

After some time during which I could do nothing but gather myself, the light was turned on and I squinted my eyes. The door was opened and a tall man entered; I could see that much. He was dressed in a washed out green coat, short, black hair and huge, round glasses. I knew him.

“What a pleasure to meet you again, Mr. Nightcutt.”

_Would you touch me?_

“Just one t, if you please.”

“Sure.”

He sat down on my bed and put the folder down.

“How have you been?”

“No need to be polite. I’m not impressed by it. What do you want?” I replied dryly and tried to sit up.

“Well then, we have found a considerable concentration of THC and CDB in your blood this time.”

The words hurt. I had difficulties concentrating on what he was saying due to that headache still left from the drugs.

“Way better than your shit,” I remarked and finally had managed to sit up by then.

“Do you do that often?”

“What”

“Consuming hashish. Last time you have been here there was none of that in your blood at all.”

“Nice that you keep such track of my activities, Nightcutt.”

“I have to. I fear that it doesn’t have an especially positive effect on you. Besides, I am interested in your routines as well. They have become pretty strange lately, I think.”

“What you mean.”

“When do you smoke it?”

“When the Other appears.”

He looked at me for a moment, then took his pen from the pocket and noted something down.

 _’The oth’_ -

“Don’t forget, a capital o.”

_’The ~~oth~~ Other’_

I was familiar with that psychobabbling and searched for a topic which wouldn’t give him the slightest hint of what was going on right now.

“Who is he?”

“A crazy man,” I smiled at him, finally having managed to bend my knees and put my head on them.

_Hey you_

“In which sense?”

“He’s the abject. And though, I love him.”

“What does he say when he comes to you?”

“Darlin,” I said, lifting my eyebrow and smiling at him seductively.

“Do you enjoy his presence?”

“Very much.”

“That might just be the problem.”

“You have no idea how right you are, Cutt.”

_Would you help me to carry the stone?_

He licked his lips, then scribbled down some notes.

“Ab-ject. You know, not Ob-ject,” I remarked.

Sighing, he looked up at me, giving me an annoyed look.  
Oh that annoyance was the cure for my headache; I enjoyed making people despair. A little more cheerful, I stretched my legs and folded my hands in my lap, watching him writing. When he was done, he looked at the paper for another few moments before his lighthouse glasses loomed up again.

“Are you up for an experiment?”

I tilted my head and lifted a brow.

“What kind of.”

“Self-experience.”

I eyed him. If I said no he’d think me a coward. On the other hand, I couldn’t care less what he thought.

“What kind of, I asked you!”

“Sensory deprivation.”

The word woke something in me. I stared at him, long and hard, until he looked away. I had not come here to find him lurking in the joints of the tiles yet again.

“Let me guess, an isolation tank.”

“What are you afraid of?”

_Open your heart, I'm coming home._

“The darkness,” it spilled from me before I could shut my mouth.

“The Other?”

“Eventually, yes.”

“It would be a chance to confront you with these fears within a safe space.”

“I am confronted with these fears every day without your fucked iso tank anyway, thanks.”

When he took the pen to note something down I cursed myself; I felt angry at having given more away than I had wanted to.

“I’ll talk to the head.”

“No you won’t!” I screamed and got up to take that piece of paper from him, yet, he was faster than me and stored it away in his chest pocket. My eyes searched for something I could damage; he noticed that and quickly got out of my reach by getting up and taking a step towards the door.

“There’s nothing you need to be afraid of. I am your friend.”

“I have no friends!” I shouted and got up from the bed but by the time I was on my feet he was out of the room already and the door locked. I staggered and sat down again, still dizzy from the drugs.  
Mortified, I leaned back against the wall, breathing deeply. Why couldn’t life just be a little easier.

_But it was only fantasy_  
_he wall was too high_  
_as you can see_

I spent the rest of the day lying in bed, dreaming of impossible things. Even in that secluded space, he haunted me and I was so weak-willed as to permit myself to dive into those comforting worlds of darkness. I fell asleep with him holding me. The pain, forgotten. In that world, I could be close to him; there was nothing else but acceptance.

When I woke up again it was dark. Pitch black darkness around me. I sat up, panicking. Where was I? I got up and tripped up on a chair. Not the tiniest spot of light anywhere. The floor was cold. Frantically searching for a point of reference, I scanned the room, assuming that it was room.  
Eventually, I realized that it was just my cell.

“Nightcutt, you fucking asshole!” I yelled, hoping that the addressed one would hear me.

Yet, I heard no reply. He couldn’t do that to me. My fingers feeling for the walls, I took a few steps until I touched coldness.  
It was his darkness.  
Being close to hyperventilation, I sat down on the floor and tried to calm down. Easy. I’d do fine; I had spent many hours in complete darkness, often, and nothing had ever happened. I convinced myself of having told him lies.

One lie, two lies, three little lies, four spies, five dies, six skies, seven-wise. I clenched my teeth, stopping myself from that compulsive behaviour. Just ten minutes and I was close to going bananas. Eight lies, nine mice, ten rise.

Something moved to my left. I jumped from the floor and pressed myself against the door. What had they put into my cell?  
However, it was silent then and nothing moved anymore so I sat down on the bed. I closed my eyes and thought of my flat, how I would make coffee, how I would clean the window, how I would jump from it. My heart was racing; I suspected them having drugged me yet again.  
While I’m in India, farewell to you.

My suit. Where was my jacket? I had come here dressed in my jacket, I wanted it back.  
Three rows can never be good enough.

“Where have you been,” a gleeful voice whispered to my left.

I froze. Eleven ties, twelve precise.

“You could have died, you know...”

Thirteen pies, fourteen size.

“Missed me?”

Fifteen catechise.

“You tasted so good.”

Sixteen circumcise.  
My hands were shaking and I crossed my arms in front of my chest to ignore it.

_no matter how he tried  
he could not break free_

“Liar. Little liar. You still get hard, don’t you.”

Seventeen criticise.

“Me too.”

I jumped from the bed and hammered my fists against the door, shouting with all my might: “You, anyone!!! Thorazine, chlorpromazine, I don’t care, I beg you!!! PLEASE!!!”  
I slammed my fists against the door, causing some sound which hushed the voice for as long as I did it. When my knuckles felt like cracking I had to stop.

“You can’t escape _me_.”

_And the worms ate into his brain._

“EVEN HALOPERIDOL, FOR FUCK’S SAKE, JUST HELP ME!!!” I yelled and sank down, weakly scratching at the door in despair. Seldom, I had used the word ‘please’ in my life yet. I knew that it existed and that it was expected by many people, but I had other ways to get what I wanted. Now this was just one of these occasions when the tried and tested violence didn’t help anymore I would switch to begging.

I fell on my face when the door was opened and blinding light burned me. A prick in my upper arm told me that I had managed to convince them of my agony. With my eyes closed, I felt around for something, I needed something to hold on to.  
The darkness which had followed me outside of the room and tried to drag me back into the shadows retreated to my legs.  
Still searching for something solid, my mouth went dry and my fingers started twitching.  
Dolazepine.

Eighteen dropwise.

With a sigh of relief, I gave in and relaxed.  
Men with long white coats stood around me, gazing at me. I felt fine.  
Exceptionally well, even.  
When they lifted me up I smiled, thanking them.

“Our pleasure,” they replied in unison and handed me over to another room. There, my body and mind settled for the next 24 hours, blissfully unaware of themselves.  
My pleasure.

Nineteen clockwise.  
I spent the next 20 hours in delirium. Bricks, lines, triangles, a warm breeze, liquid, guilt, cats, wounds, wings...black wings.  
When I opened my eyes again, I felt horrible. Upon my wish I was transferred to my room.  
During the next few days, I recovered only slowly, still hallucinating. I was fed by a tube through my nose and had I just been able to control my limbs I had pulled it out immediately, but I spent that time in a haze, barely able to move anything at will.  
Eventually, I returned to my former self, somewhat. 

I spent the days lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, dancing an elusive dance around that man, trying to run without legs, shutting my ears to his siren song.

Thirty kilometres way, a worn-out man sat by a table, looking at the fruits, bread, marmalade, butter and coffee. Nothing could whet his appetite, no matter how exotic the fruits were and no matter how freshly the coffee had been grounded. He wouldn’t read the morning papers anymore.  
He didn’t even try to conceal the dark rings under his eyes anymore.  
He wouldn’t get dressed on such days anymore.

_Hey you, out there on the road  
always doing what you're told_

One thought.  
One single thought infecting his entire life at this moment, rendering sleep, peace and concentration impossible.  
Listlessly, he took the steaming cup and swallowed down the coffee like some bitter sort of medicine. He knew that he wouldn’t wake up from this horrid coma that way, but he gave it a try though.  
He propped his arm up on the table and put his chin in his hand, sighing.  
He had to get him.

_Can you help me?_

My days weren’t getting brighter. In fact, all light disappeared, leaving behind a sticky, slick puddle of black bile in which I desperately tried to keep my head above the surface.  
After two weeks I wished I had killed myself. Dreams, sounds and images haunted me in that cell and I was desperate enough to refuse any food or drinking.  
After another three days, the head priest of Arkham visited me. Accompanied by two men with tranquilizer pistols, he entered the room and eyed me. I was just lying on the bed as always, staring at the wall, suffering from daydreams and hallucinations. Strangely enough, they had gotten worse after I had stopped eating.

“Why do you refuse to eat?”

He couldn’t seriously be expecting an answer to that and when he realized that I would not answer that silly question he left again.  
Just two hours later they visited me again.

“Get up, your hands behind the back or we shoot you down.”

Sighing, I propped myself up, knowing that they would shoot if I didn’t comply and I hated that. I couldn’t stand being rendered immobile in that way because it was just hurting my pride. So I got up and gave them my hands and they cuffed me. With two warders and me in the middle we went down the aisle, passing other cells. When we turned left and I saw the sign next to the door I stopped and wanted to take a step back but they took my arms. Squirming and writhing, I tried to get some distance between that door and me, overwhelmed by emotions and flashbacks.

There wasn’t much I was afraid of and not much I really would show respect for, but that was one of those few things which gave me the creeps. Intimidated by their plan, I gasped and tried to break free but they pushed me into the room.

“Behave, or we’ll shoot!” one of them reminded me. I didn’t know what was worse.

Merciless hands forced me to lie down on that gurney; my hands were uncuffed just to be tied down again with straps. I did my best to hide my fear which had gotten so bad by now that I feared I’d piss my pants. When they pressed that disgusting gag between my teeth I freaked out, losing to the madness. Kicking and thrashing, I screamed against the rags in my mouth, but it was no use. They put the electrodes on my forehead and I clenched fists, dreading the next 10 minutes.

“Relax,” he said and switched it on.  
Electricity frying my brains. Hot, searing pain replacing the blood in my veins.  
I knew that we had made a lot of progress since the middle ages and there were relaxant agents which kept the body from convulsing, but they didn’t seem like having heard of that in Arkham yet. My wrists and ankles pressed against the straps, my teeth bit into the gag and my lungs refused to work any more.

He kept it up for some moments and then gave me a break during which I desperately tried to breathe normally again. The two guards bent down to look into my eyes.

“Step aside,” he told the keepers and they took a step back again.

I wanted to die. Sincerely, honestly, I wanted to die and I prayed for him to underestimate the voltage and kill me with it, finally. Though, he didn’t do me that favour and cooked the rest of my brain tissue crispy. When he turned the switch, I fell down on the plastic mat for the second time, my lungs collapsing and making me cough around the gag. I think he enjoyed that more than any wacko ever had enjoyed this.

_Hey you_

“Missed you,” someone whispered into my ear.

“Fasten your seatbelt, gentleman, we are ready for round 3,” I heard him making fun of me and pushed it down again.  
I couldn’t go on any longer; everything inside seemed to boil and burst from strain and my head felt like it had molten and was dripping from the table anyway. When I was about to pass out he switched the machine off and I collapsed like a house of cards. My muscles were still twitching from that painful stimulation and my head was a throbbing mess anyway; misinterpreted signals making me see white spots and a black mist. 

The gag was taken from my mouth and saliva dripped on my cheek. Shaking from pure distress, I tried to breathe but my body refused to come back to life. They freed me from the straps and heaved me into a wheelchair. 

“Get him back to his cell.”

They drove me out of the room, towards my cell. Saliva trickled down my chin, but I couldn’t lift a hand to wipe it off. I couldn’t even move my little toe. That treatment was just so humiliating and they did nothing to make it any easier for one to stand.  
Back in my cell, I was lifted and dropped on my bed. Since I hadn’t eaten anything for three days I had been spared the degradation of soiling my pants, though I had peed them. With their fingers clad in gloves, they pulled the pants off my body, ruthlessly wiped me dry and left then.

I was still facing difficulties in breathing, but I didn’t feel like choking anymore. My head felt like it was filled with millions of needles all poking my brain, outside and inside, in every blood vessel and all tissue area. The pain still let white spots dance across my vision and I cursed that bastard; I was sure that he had no clue what his treatment felt like nor what it would do to one.  
Gasping for air, I turned to the side, my body feeling like two tons, needing two minutes to get the mass to move. I knew that feeling from when my body was still asleep but my mind awake and I tried to move, yet sleep paralysis giving me a hard time and almost making it impossible for me to move.

Finally lying on my side, I coughed again and closed my eyes. There was nothing more reasonable left to do than do nothing and just focus on existing till it would go away.

_out there beyond the wall_

I slept through the night, a dreamless sleep. When I woke up in the morning, only waking up because they switched on the blinding light, I groaned. The pain had slightly gotten better but it still was driving me mad. If that was the sense of it then I would have laughed, had I just been able to tense up a little.

___________

In the evening, the door of my cell was opened. I was lying on my side, staring at the wall in front of me, losing myself in hallucinations. I knew that scent. Dr. Nightcut.  
I heard the man sitting down on a chair he had brought along and then the sound of paper touched.

“I’ve never seen you so depressed.”

That voice, although I had a hard time admitting that, was soothing me. He had always treated me with respect and showed interest in my thoughts. He was a psychiatrist, he was just doing his job, but he seemed to be a bit more intelligent than the rest of those brutes and I wasn’t picky.  
Sighing, I propped myself up and after half a minute even managed to sit up, leaning against the wall and trying to find a spot in front of me at which I could safely stare without starting to feel sick. 

“You tried to kill yourself. A coward thing to do,” he didn’t look up from the papers at all, “but it doesn’t suit you. I would like to understand your intentions, Mr. Border.”

He was up for games, but so was I, having recovered enough to be able to think again. During our first meetings I had decided on that name and he was the only one who called me by that. I knew that it was just some attempt of establishing trust but I granted him that; I liked that name.

“You’d like to understand, of course,” I replied, testing my voice. My throat ached. I was still pissed at him for dealing me that isolation matter.

He looked at me finally. Big glasses almost hiding his eyes.

“You understand that if you don’t start eating we will have to force feed you.”

That thought made me shiver but I tried to hide it. I’d find a way.

“Did you prescribe the electrotreatments?”

“Electroconvulsive therapy. No. You should know that by now. I don’t support such methods at all.”

“Not at all, yet you push me into a lightless cell with no sound or image and delight yourself in watching me going crazy, you darned asshole.”

“I tried to convince the head of not doing that, but my voice doesn’t count much around here.”

“Traitor, gave him the paper.”

_breaking bottles in the hall_

“I didn’t. He asked me what we had talked about and I told him that you would not consent on anything related to sensory deprivation treatments.”

“Sadistic bastard.”

“Though, I would like to know whether any of that helped you, Mr. Border.”

“Not at all,” I laughed but went silent immediately when I felt my ribcage hurting too much.

He noted something down, then looked at me again.

“See, Mr. Border, we just got one hour and I’d encourage you to talk about your problems to me so I can possibly help you or do something else for you.”

I was so tired of that, but he was just doing his job.

“As I told you, my father beat me with a belt. Very frequently.”

He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes.

“This is not the reason why you tried to jump from the building.”

I laughed but it turned into coughing soon and I went silent again.

“To some extent, it might be. See, Mr. Nightcut, I have very deeply rooted daddy issues and it is very easy to trigger them.”

He scratched his chin and kept looking at me.

“Who triggered them?”

I cursed myself, having said too much already although I didn’t want to talk about that at all. I wanted to play, but that proved to be difficult with a head full of mush. 

“A man?”

I gave a silly answer to buy me time. He sighed.

“Obviously.”

“He stole my lolly and left me standing in the rain.”

I forgot that he was an expert at psychoanalysis, otherwise I would have chosen my words more carefully.

“A big one?”

“Huge.” 

“Did you ever have to perform fellatio on your father?”

I looked away and flexed my fingers.

“In fact, I was the one who asked my father to be allowed to suck him off.”

My own lies disgusted even me by now.

“Mr. Border,” he said, his voice reprimanding me, “I think you are not taking this as seriously as you should.”

“How seriously should I take this?”

“Very seriously.”

“Well then, sorry. How much time left?”

I could be a pain in the ass sometimes, but I really wasn’t up for spilling my heart to that man right now. I wasn’t up for anything other than disappearing from this earth.  
He sighed another time.

“I see that you are not up for reasonable conversation today, Mr. Border. On the other hand, I can’t be angry with you after what has happened to you yesterday.”

With these words, he got up and was about to take the chair when I turned my head again and my expression slipped for a second.  
Me. No facade hiding the pain, no faked smile concealing the despair, no mischievous look faking confidence.  
He caught my unintentional cry for help and placed the chair on the floor again.

“Mr. Border”

Not more than my name and I felt understood. Though, I couldn’t tell him. And he got it.

“Can I get you something?”

For a moment, my body and my soul dissolved, consumed with the craving for a man I couldn’t reach anymore, but I swallowed it down, feeling my heart getting heavier and heavier.

“A black cloth,” I said with a strained voice, holding back the tears. Why couldn’t I just die. Why couldn’t I just lie.

He looked at me for a second, yes he didn’t even try to understand me, then he took the chair with him and closed the door.  
About ten minutes later he returned with a black piece of cloth. It was a dish cloth. Wordlessly, I took it from his hands and he left again, the worry in his eyes having noticeably grown. Moved to tears, I lay down and huddled up to it. Meanwhile, the man left to bury himself in his office, writing down his observations and assumptions.

_”Lack of appetite_  
_Signs of apathy and regressive behaviour_  
_Hypovigilance!!!_  
_Asked for a black cloth, seems to take comfort in the darkness now_  
_What is the object of darkness?_  
_Who is the ~~other~~ Other?_ ” 

The next day, I didn’t wake up at all. I stayed in bed, oscillating between consciousness and dreams, longing.  
Starving.  
Dying.  
I recalled those moments when he opened up to me and I could catch a glimpse of his mind behind those drunken eyes.

No doubts, no shame, no wrong. He had let me in while I had been so insecure, barely able to trust him but then, when he gently caressed my mind with his understanding and accepting eyes, I had become confident, opening up as well.  
I could barely breathe.  
The black cloth hugged tightly, I tensed up under the blanket, the pain tearing me apart. I needed something between me and that raw truth, that torturing fact. I trashed the blanket away and sat up.

“Guard!” I screamed as loudly as I could and repeated that until someone opened the door.  
“You! Get that bastard of a shrink, the fat one, I need it badly! BADLY!!!” I yelled, got up on the bed and started hitting the wall with my head. I’d have to put on quite an act to be credible and get what I wanted but I was good at that. The guard left.

“MAMA GET ME HELP!!!” I screamed and just then heard some other lunatics throwing a fit as well, shouting and screaming.  
Eventually, the guard returned with that bastard of a doctor just when my forehead was starting to bleed. When I saw him I stopped immediately. Sweating and panting, I jumped from the bed and fell down on my knees, looking up at him.

_Can you help me?_

“I felt so good after your treatment, I just couldn’t say it, but it’s wearing off, I need it again, please!”

I hated that man.  
Smugly, he looked down at me and pursed his lips.

“Electroshock therapy?”

“Yes,” I breathed, feeling close to orgasm at hearing that word being pronounced by that nasty creature.

“I am glad it helped you so much. Get up and follow me.”

Like a good girl, I got up and left the room, the guards staring at me wide-eyed, never having seen me in such a state because usually, they had to force me, whatever it was.  
Breathing heavily, I followed the white in front of me. No way out, but I didn’t want to escape at all. I just wanted it gone, the pain which ate up my soul and that pain which ate up my reason, leaving nothing but a drooling idiot behind.

The loons were still screaming to my left and right and I had to concentrate on following him, torn, attacked and distracted. When I entered the room a strange kind of calmness settled within me. Deliberately, I lay down and allowed them to fasten my wrists and ankles. White spread in front of my eyes and I felt lightheaded. I readily took the gag and relaxed.  
The electrodes were put on my head again and he turned around to send me into oblivion.

_Hey you,  
don't tell me there's no hope at all_

Blackness.  
Sour, heavy blackness.  
My body convulsed in pain which I didn’t feel anymore.  
Light.

Warmth, light and heavenly peace pushed any other sensation aside. It was so much that I could barely take it. I had never felt anything as intense as that; these were feelings not made for human beings, too intense than to be endured by them.  
Vast peace.  
No wrong.  
Absolute love.

I dissolved in perfection.

The man removed the electrodes and the gag. The body was lifted and carefully placed in a wheelchair, its feet put on the bars so they wouldn’t touch the ground.  
After a short journey through cold air, it was moved into a small room where strong hands lifted it up again.  
Its head lifelessly hung down, its arms and legs as well. Carefully, they spread them on the fresh linen and pulled the blanket up to its chest. No movement.

A single tear streamed down the reddish cheek. The veinlets had burst under the pressure and spilt the blood into the surrounding tissue.  
Dying.  
Starving.  
Bleeding, for love.

 

_Together we stand, divided we fall._

 

_________________


	6. Folie à deux

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce tries to get back to his routine, yet must understand that his routines have long been fucked up already and nothing will ever work out again if he doesn’t get his favourite clown back.  
> With a little help from his friends, he finally gets to see him again, yet, not without facing some serious nightmares before he can listen to the angels' talking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics from the song _That’s All_ by _Genesis_.  
>  warnings: heavy angst, despair, oral stimulation  
> POV: Bruce Wayne’s POV (mainly)

**Folie à deux**

 

Three weeks and I was done.  
I could barely sleep, I could barely eat, I could barely work, I could barely motivate myself to get out of bed when I didn’t have to work. And he watched in silence. Good Alfred silent. I knew that he was waiting for me to speak the first word, but right now, I’d rather have him watching instead of telling me about the worries about his dear Master’s life which was about to crack and break for good. He washed my stuff, he made the bed, whenever I managed to get up anyway, and he still kept serving me the breakfast I never touched, except the coffee.

_Just as I thought it was going alright  
I find out I'm wrong, when I thought I was right_

He also kept cooking for me but I never managed to eat much. He didn’t cook smaller portions, he was doing that on purpose, trying to make me feel bad about the stuff he’d have to throw away, but I had other problems than food in the garbage. I hoped he’d realize that he could bring it to some social welfare organization as well.

One of those other problems was that Alfred had ridded the house of alcohol, completely. No gin, no whiskey, no gross fruit schnaps, not even alcopops. He knew that I’d just have gotten drunk every single day after work and he tried to avoid that.

_It's always the same, it's just a shame, that's all_

Though, I managed to have it my way, going out more often and just ending up at some shabby bar where no one cared about the other. Gotham was full of those. Funnily enough, I also saw officers, judges and even Bullock there once.  
I’d make my way home then, my misery drowned in even worse stuff. Alfred took it on the chin; not looking me in the eyes at all when I came home, letting me feel that he didn’t approve of it but would wink at it for the sake of our relationship which he tried to preserve.

_I could say day, you'd say night_

I was glad that I wasn’t home alone, even if we didn’t talk. His opinion would never change, whatever argument I would bring up. He was a stubborn man, once having arrived at some belief he wouldn’t give it up anymore. 

_Tell me it's black when I know that it's white_

On the other hand, I’d rather stand that honest man than having a phoney flip-flopper by my side. He knew me well enough to leave me alone when he couldn’t convince me. Eventually, I’d come back to him, apologizing.  
Not this time, though.

_It's always the same, it's just a shame, that's all_

However, he had done something I had not deemed possible. Maybe an attempt to approach me.  
The next day after they had driven him to Arkham I had gotten up and dragged myself to the kitchen. Silently, he had poured me a cup of coffee and put the green ribbon next to the cup.  
The sight caused a pang of joy and sorrow at the same time. When I looked up at him, flabbergasted, he looked squarely into my eyes, like a daddy giving the whining kid its toy back, and then went to the sink, leaned against it and drank his coffee, keeping me in sight.

He had seen me most desperate. He had seen me down-at-heel, he had seen me smeared with blood, dirt and whatnot and he had seen me crying in misery. He had seen me in all possible states already so I didn’t need to hide my emotions.  
I took the ribbon and sighed. 

From then on, I carried it along, wherever I went. Business meetings, dinners, from the living room to the kitchen. I felt so sorry and so guilty.  
Had I just tried to reach him earlier and not waited till the next Saturday. Maybe it would have changed everything.  
That was how I spent my days. Thinking, regretting.  
Longing. 

A three weeks’ time had not been enough to drive that lunatic out of my life and I feared that neither two months nor half a year would serve to make me forget him. 

_Turning me on, turning me off  
Making me feel like I want too much_

What had started out like a game, from the moment when he had entered my house and I had been stoned, on to the next time when I had tried to drown him and when we had finally opened up, showing the some parts of our hidden selves, down to the third time we had met when I had tied him to the bed. He had trusted me.

Actually, an unbelievable thing. Having the Joker tied to my bed, begging to get screwed. What a strange man.  
And what a strange man was I, tying him to the bed and fucking him?  
I hadn’t been aware of the emptiness in my life. Just now after I had lost him I felt it weighing down on me.

_Living with you's just putting me through it all of the time_

On Tuesday, Alfred entered my sleeping room. Too early in the morning and I was just asking what the heck was wrong when he put a note on the bedside table and left again. Sighing, I turned to the side and took it.

“Dear Sir,  
you have an appointment at the Arkham facility, Wednesday, 11 am.”

Frowning, I put the note aside and lay down again. Had he phoned the shrink to talk to me?  
He made me get up. Just on the way while looking for him I realized that it was not about that. Had he wanted me to see a shrink he’d have phoned someone else. I found him in the kitchen room, reading the newspapers. When I saw him I was speechless, didn’t know what to say anymore. He shortly looked up from the morning post, then continued reading.

I sat down in front of him and before my ass touched the chair he had gotten up to bring me a cup of coffee. Then, he sat down again and kept reading in silence.  
He had talked to them to get me an appointment to ask the Joker why he had jumped from that building and had wanted me there.  
That conclusion brought a smile to my face, the first in two weeks. I’d see him.  
Smiling like an idiot, I looked at Alfred, indulging in that thought. Of course, he noticed and looked up. He closed his eyes, slowly, relaxed his lips and tilted his head to read on again.

I got up and went to the fridge to get me a yoghurt.  
One more day.  
Alfred had never said anything when I had brought a woman with me and when I screwed her. Not even when she left the next morning and had never been seen again here. He had never asked me why I had invited that Mistress and he had never asked me why that woman had had such a deep voice. He had thought he had managed to let go of his boy and let him live his own life.

_Running around, staying out all night  
Taking it all instead of taking one bite_

Though, when he had seen me with the Joker he had realized that it had been a lie. Whatever decision to forget things which actually couldn’t be forgotten I had made, whatever stupid thoughts had brought me to that, he could not accept _that_. I couldn’t be mad at him for caring about me and I understood his attempts to keep me from potential danger and damage but I was a grown man. Intelligent enough to understand that letting the Joker into my life meant to play with fire. 

The first time, I had been stoned, unable to think straight. Had I been able to think straight it never would have come to this, honestly.  
The second time I had wanted to take revenge on him, and at understanding that it wouldn’t work out I had gotten drunk. Had I been sober it would never have come to that, honestly.  
The third time I had been sober, craving an exotic fuck.  
No excuse there.  
Denying it would have been hypocritical.  
It is what it is.

_Living with you's just putting me through it all of the time_

I spent the rest of the day thinking of what I would wear. I cut my nails and took a bath. While I was resting in the warm water Alfred entered the bath room.

“Master Bruce, may I offer you my services and give you a shave?”

I knew that he would break the silence, sooner or later. However, I hid my smile and just nodded and he got the stuff and spread the shaving foam on my cheeks.  
He didn’t understand. But he accepted it. He trusted me to be reasonable enough to know what I was doing.

“Master Bruce, I’ve never seen you so happy. Happy might be the wrong word. Content. I asked myself,” he said, massaging my cheeks, “what had changed in your life, since I did not see any great changes.”

He wiped his hands clean, then took the razor. I loved it when he shaved me; he was the best. An English gentleman. He took a deep breath and started.

“When I came home that evening and saw you with this man I was angry. Honestly, I just felt angry. Thinking of what he has done to you and people who were dear to you and suddenly seeing him in your bed like that just...”

I stared at the wall in front of me, feeling so tired all of a sudden. About 21 nights and I had just gotten around 5 nights of sleep in whole during these three weeks. The warm water made it all worse.

“I just lost it. I couldn’t understand how you could herd with this man. I thought you to be deluded, blinded by the false charm of this trickster.”

He cleaned the razor by just putting it into the bath water. I was used to that.

“I could not see how I ever could be wrong about this...but then I realized that I have no right to question you. I acted in benevolence, I meant well for you, Sir, and I hope you know that and that this makes it easier for you to forgive me.”

I knew him so well.

“I strongly believed in him being out to hurt you. I was so stupid as to believe that you would not notice that. When you have actually proven to me that you know a lot more about psychology than I do.”

Not per se, but if he said so.

“I guess I will have to accept it. All I ever wanted is to see you happy and content. It should not matter to me how you achieve this, in the end. Just because I don’t approve of it doesn’t mean it is not an appropriate means to get to that.”

Admitting that surely must have been hard for him, but I appreciated his honesty. In the end, we could always talk about it. Sometimes, we just needed some days to calm down.

“I phoned the principal of Arkham and asked whether it was possible to see that man because you were curious to find out why he wanted you to be on the roof with him. He consented to it.”

I had listened to him in silence. With every word he said I felt better, feeling like getting my life back. 

“Thank you.”

He didn’t reply anything to that but continued the shave. Just when I was about to fall asleep in the tub he was done and I stepped out of the water. The first night I would sleep through.  
Later in the evening, I put the clothes on the chair in my sleeping room and lay down, my head full of thoughts.  
So full that I could barely sleep.

At 5 am I got up and went to the living room to switch on the TV. Half an hour later Alfred got up and served me coffee. We sat there together and watched the news and documentations till half past nine. With every hour passing, I got more nervous, yearning for the moment when I would see him again. Alfred took notice of that but didn’t say anything.

Then, finally, I got dressed and left. He had offered to drive me there, but I wanted to be on my own.  
When I saw the gates of Arkham I felt afraid. Those gates. Rusty, black and made to last beyond eternity. I hated that place. When I finally entered through the massive doors it sent a shiver down my spine. I had been there once already, meeting him, but that was years ago. I had never liked that place. It was hostile and so full of evil vibes.

_I could leave but I won't go  
It'd be easier I know_

I was led to a small room where two people were waiting for me. One of them wore a long subtly green coat, the other pants and a shirt. They told me about their names and their functions, then one left and I was left with the shrink.

“Nightcut, you said?”

“Yes. Please have a seat, Mr. Wayne.” 

He had a calming voice, but I thought it to be part of his strategy. When he eyed me I felt uncomfortable because I knew that I was looking like shit.

_I can't feel a thing from my head down to my toes_

“Have you been asking yourself how it had come to this?”

“Of course.”

“Well, I have tried to get an answer from him, but he refused to speak to me. He wanted you to be there, he wanted you to see him jumping. He might tell you some more.”

“That’s why I made this appointment.”

“Really, have you?”

“Well, no, my butler did.”

“Mr. Wayne...” he said, and I knew that things were getting even more uncomfortable, “Can you think of a reason why he wanted you to be there?”

“Not at all.”

I was so tired. So tired that my eyes stung, but I had to concentrate on not giving something away which I would regret or which would get me in trouble.

“Why you? What did he say when you were up there?”

I snorted.

“Nothing which would make sense, actually.”

“What exactly?”

_But why does it always seem to be  
Me looking at you, you looking at me_

“Mr. Nightcut, I can’t really remember,” I said with an angry voice, feeling my head aching from the strain and tiredness, “It was just nonsense, you know him. Stupid, supposedly funny things,” I added and pinched the brick of my nose.

“Mr. Wayne, are you alright?”

“Yes, just tired,” I said with closed eyes, trying to compose myself.

“Do you feel guilty?”

I froze. I couldn’t but freeze. And he saw that.

_It's always the same, it's just a shame, that's all_

“Can I just see him?” I asked with a vexed voice, looking straight into his eyes. I’d stare him down, I would.

He looked back at me. No chance; I had lost already.

“I want to know whether I am guilty or not,” I said finally, trying to defuse the situation.

“I hope you will find what you are looking for. I just fear...”

“Yes?”

“I just fear”, he started again, “That it might prove difficult to get him to talk. You see, our head is convinced of the efficiency of electroconvulsive therapy, and...”

Hearing that word made me swallow. I was not convinced of the efficiency of electroconvulsive therapy at all and imagining him being treated like that turned my stomach.

“He just thought that he would get him to be cooperative if he just, well. He insisted on it, also to decrease the risk of an attack. It was done yesterday, but he seems to have difficulties recovering from it. I can understand...”

I felt sick. Tired, sick, worried and just like crying.

“Mr. Wayne?”

I shook my head and concentrated on looking serious and competent.

“Yes, I can understand his fears. I have been dealing with the Joker once and it was not a very pleasant situation; I noticed that he can be quite brutal. Let’s go then.”

The shrink finally got up and I followed him to his cell. I knew that he knew that something was wrong, but I just hoped that he would never find out what it was.  
When he unlocked the door of his cell and pushed down the handle my heart was beating so fast that I feared he would hear it.  
Just seconds away.  
I entered the cell. A strange kind of smell made me swallow. He was lying on the bed to my right. Unable to resist the urge to see him I turned my head.

A miserable wretch; I clenched my teeth in dismay. Nothing moved, although I could see the turmoil in his eyes; his pupils growing larger when he spotted me. Knowing that he was unable to talk made things easier for me. His words would have overwhelmed me, probably.  
Becoming aware of me gazing at him like a freak I turned my head and sat down on the chair in front of his bed. As terrifying as that sight was, I felt warmth spreading inside me. It felt so good to see him.

Nervously, I searched for a spot to concentrate on, but I wouldn’t find anything else than his thin fingers.  
I knew what it felt like when they touched me. You would think that they made me bleed and corrode my skin, but they didn’t at all. They made me heal. I lifted my head to look at his face, finally feeling safe and confident enough to stand his look. Sunken cheeks, the gleeful gleam in his eyes gone, his skin pallid, almost grey. Only his lips were still so red and full.  
I averted my eyes again.

_Truth is I love you_

“I’m sorry,” I started out with a thin voice, “It was meant to be a joke. I...I thought it funny to keep you there and just untie you in the morning, but Alfred got up earlier and...when I got up you were gone.”

It was ridiculous what kind of havoc that little misunderstanding had wreaked. I prayed to God that he would believe me, that he would give me a chance.  
He closed his eyes.

_More that I wanted to_

“Why didn’t you just...ask me or come back to talk?” I said, taking the bait of accusation and justification.

“Sorry,” I said again when I noticed that these things were just pointless now.

_There's no point in trying to pretend_

I reached out for him again and this time, I could take his hand. His lifeless fingers rested on my hand and I held my other hand on top of his. So cold.

“I didn’t mean to. It must have been hell for you. When you jumped,” I continued with a constrained voice, feeling a globus in my throat, “I...”

_There's been no-one who  
makes me feel like you do_

I bit down on my lip. What had I come for actually?  
The strange atmosphere was getting to me. To the point where I feared they would take notice of my fucked up state and keep me here as well. I turned to look at the door; it was closed. No one would hear me, no one would see me.  
I let go of his hand which made him open his eyes. I just moved my chair closer to the bed, then took it again, rubbing his fingers to get some blood into them.

“I can’t put it in words.” 

His eyes went shut again. Somehow, I appreciated the silence because I knew that I wouldn’t be able to deal with his words, whatever they were about. This time, he was the one unable to speak and who had to watch.

“I didn’t mean what I said. When Al suddenly was there I was just surprised and didn’t know what to do. He hates you.”

I moved closer again, then fearfully looked at the door. Someone was behind it. I had to lower my voice.

“When you were gone,” I whispered, clutching at his hand, “I wanted to run after you, but I just didn’t know where to. I waited for you to return cause I thought you, no...it was just stupid to think that...”

A noise behind the door made me look up and inspect the steel. I stared at it for some moments, then looked at his face again. His eyes. There was some life back in them.

“Don’t you want to, you know...” I bent down to whisper into his ear because I was sure that by now, they got every word I said, “Leave this place?”

_Say we'll be together till the end_

I swallowed hard and nudged his ear with my nose, that familiar scent. A loud noise coming from the door made me jump in fright. His hand slid from mine as I jumped from the chair, staring at the door. How could they just...

I looked back at him. A strange expression. He flexed his fingers and slightly moved his lips.  
Why was it so dark here?  
The handle was pushed down and I freaked. Gasping, I took some steps backwards until my back hit the wall. It was cold. I had made a mistake, coming here. They could see that I wasn’t well and now what I just had said must have proven them that I was insane.  
I knew they came for me. They had heard every word and they were going to execute me.

“How long...”

I licked my lips and stared at the door, waiting for the handle to be pushed down again. They were playing with me, trying to make me feel safe. I never should have talked to the shrink at all.

“...long...have you gone...without sleep?” 

I heard his feeble voice to the left. No, I remembered that man having told me that he wasn’t able to move at all. Some nights, I had heard sounds and voices, between 2 and 3 am, just a bad time. It sounded similar. They just wanted to know more about me.

To check for the truth, I looked at him for just a second, knowing that I had to focus on the door and what would come through it. He still lay there like before. Couldn’t have been him.  
My heart was beating fast and my head ached so terribly that I thought it would burst, but I had to pay attention to the door. 

This place, it was so evil. Right after I had taken the first step after entering I had felt it. So many souls craving freedom, deliverance, reaching for this pure soul walking past them. They were like demons, screaming and yelling, trying to reach me to tear me apart and feed on my soul.

_I could leave but I won't go  
It'd be easier I know_

A scream which went through the door shattered the last bit of reason I had been clinging to so desperately. A nausea spreading from my guts made the alarm bells ring in my head.  
I was terrified of what was behind that door. They would take me, take me away and lock me up.

“Bruce”

From the corner of my eye, I saw him looking at me. I saw the fight, how he tried to overcome the paralysis and move and I saw him losing.  
I’d face the same.  
A loud noise like metal hitting metal, coming from behind that door, let me sink to my knees, feeling lightheaded. They were coming. I felt so sick that I just wanted to die to escape that state. 

Gasping and heaving, I lay down on the floor, black spots growing in front of my eyes.  
They had won. They were getting me, turning me into one of them. I could see their hands reaching for me, I could feel their teeth ripping pieces of skin from my body and I could hear the joyful yells.

“Bruce!”

_I can't feel a thing from my head down to my toes_

At least, we were together.  
The sickness had reached my brain and I passed out.

“GUARD!!!”

It took some time, but then, two people entered the room and at seeing that man dressed in his black coat lying on the floor, they instantly left again to get help.  
The room filled up with people then, the head was among them as well. When he saw the body on the floor he turned around and seized the Joker’s throat, hissing at him: “What have you done?”  
He couldn’t defend himself nor could he speak. 

“Get a gurney!”

When he realized that it was futile he let go and turned to the other man who was already lifted by the guards. They carried him out of the room and closed the door behind them.  
Silence, loneliness, again.  
He blinked several times, then tried to clench a fist. He would have reached for him. If he just could he would have reached out for him and held him. 

“Fuck...”

Meanwhile, the body was transported to the hospital section. He was undressed to his underpants and put in a bed. A butterfly needle was pushed through the skin of the back of his hand and a saline solution was forced into his veins.  
The doctor lifted an eyelid to check for reflexes, then he checked his pulse. As he was content, he turned to the worrying head.

“May just be the weather. The air pressure is quite low today; if he’s sensitive to the changes in weather and hasn’t had any food yet it might be just that.”

Both of them left.  
Bruce Wayne was alone. But he didn’t notice. He was lost in unconscious darkness. Floating, drifting, apart.

____________ 

 

After two days of sleep he woke up to find himself alone in a strange room. Beds to the left, beds to the right, a dim light barely illuminating more than the silhouettes.  
He tried to remember.  
When he remembered he wished he hadn’t.  
It had sucked him in, like a vortex of utter madness. Now he couldn’t relate to his ideas and visions anymore; he didn’t understand what could possibly have made him think that those were demons, reaching for his soul. He hoped that no one had noticed. He’d be in trouble if someone had.

__________

 

“Where is he?” I asked the man, pushing some green strands out of my face to show him that I was serious.

Nightcut had chosen to give me some of his attention again after that incident. Traumatizing event, that, for sure. Seeing a man passing out was far beyond what I could take so I needed to talk to him.  
However, now, with my man within reach, I felt arrogant. In fact, I needed no one in here, neither Nightcut nor anyone else. He had merely been a means to achieve my goal.  
I was feeling better, the effects of that treatment wearing off more quickly than the first time. Still, my head ached, but that was all. With some water, I could even get rid of that.

It had been an intense time when I had seen him. His words had rearranged me. At first, I had tried to defend myself against their charm because I thought them a lie, an excuse. That he had ditched me because it had got him in trouble and that he was just back because he could neither live with nor without me. Eventually, I had realized that we were connected in a more subtle way. When he had started to hallucinate I had known that he was just trying to get on my level.

The fear, yes. A byproduct. Sounds and images, beliefs which seemed to be so unreasonable and at this moment just were true; the only ones which were true. Often enough, I had been living through such a psychosis when the world turned into a neverending violent nightmare. Yet, I had not thought myself capable of establishing such a deep relationship that I’d even drag a man into madness.  
Folie a deux. I felt proud somewhat. And then again, worried. I didn’t want him to suffer from that. Enough that I had almost given up; he had to fight it.

“In the sick ward. But you seem to know more than I do. What happened?”

I snorted in arrogance. My head felt clearer and I was slowly getting my lust for life back.

“He passed out.”

He was used to these teasing replies by now and just kept looking at me.

“Why?”

“The weather?”

He closed his eyes but didn’t turn his head away. When he opened them again I could see that he didn’t believe me.

_But why does it always seem to be  
Me looking at you, you looking at me_

“I get it you noticed that he looked like facing serious sleep deprivation.”

“Maybe a therapeutic measure? You never know with these guys who still prescribe electroshocks these days.”

“Electroconvulsive therapy. Is he in therapy?”

“How should I know? It’s not like I fuck him.”

For a second, a smirk passed my face but I licked my lips to hide it. No, I couldn’t withstand the temptation of feeling superior. But I had prepared the ground for that comment, dealing him obscene and nasty stuff all the time so he wouldn’t know what was real and lying anymore.

“Would you like to?”

I burst with laughter, being offered the chance to get rid of this tension in a way which wouldn’t tell him anything.

“Aaah...yes...” I laughed, trying to calm down again, “I would like to,” I mocked him, “No, actually, I would like him to penetrate my unstretched ass and hurt me real good, the way I deserve it. You know, the daddy issues.”

Sighing, the man got up and put his pen away. Deeply amused, I watched him giving up.

“You have a nice way of telling me when you are tired of me, really,” he said and turned his back on me.  
I smirked.  
He left.

_It's always the same, it's just a shame, that's all_

_________

 

“Mr. Wayne, the doctor would like to talk to you before you leave.”

Hearing that cut the rope between my heart and the sack of stones; I felt relieved. No need to fear anything. I continued getting dressed and then accompanied the head to the room of the man I had met before.  
He got up from his chair and sat down after I had sat down. We were left alone.

“Mr. Wayne, how are you doing?”

He knew something. I was sure that he did and I had to find out how much.

“Fine, thanks. You wanted to talk to me before I leave.”

“Yes, thank you for coming. As you just might have noticed, I am quite worried about your fit two days ago. Do you have any idea why that has happened?”

“I haven’t slept much the last night because I had to take care of business things and additionally, I have difficulties handling that kind of weather, you know.”

“I see,” he said, looking down, “Was that the first time?”

“No, and it probably wasn’t the last time,” I replied, getting slightly angry at this nosy idiot.

“I am sorry if I trouble you with my interest, but let me assure you that I only ask because I care about you.”

“You need not.”

Talking to him felt like exposing my soul to one of those red couch idiots although we barely dug beyond the surface. I was just feeling sore inside these walls.  
He licked his lips and took a clean sheet of paper.

“If you think you can make notes and analyse me now you can just shove that pen up your arse.”

_Just as I thought it was going alright  
I find out I'm wrong, when I thought I was right_

I was surprised at hearing these words coming from my mouth. In order to hide my surprise I got up and pretended to leave.

“Mr. Wayne! Please, wait. I am sorry if I gave you the impression of analysing you. I just wanted to write down the name of a preparation which might help you deal with these weather conditions more easily.”

Embarrassed, I stopped and turned around to go back to the chair.

“I apologize for my word choice. I still feel a little unwell. Do you have some of that here?”

His eyes brightened up behind the glasses. He wanted to help. So badly.

“Of course.”

He went to get me some of that stuff and I took a deep breath at just having cheated the gallows. I had to be more careful.  
Soon, he returned with a glass with some liquid. I downed it, then put it on the table. He had sat down again.

“Mr...”

“Nightcut.”

“I could not really get any information from him. Do you think it is possible to visit him again?”

“I don’t see any problem with that,” he replied, unsuspecting, “If you please we can just visit him now.”

He wrote something down, then got up and led me to the cell. There, he told the guards to cuff his favourite prisoner and they did so, not without some noise and a scream. I pursed my lips.

“Do you think he will turn violent against me?”

“I don’t think so. If he wanted to do so he would have done it on the roof top already. Besides, he is cuffed now.”

“Of course...” I answered.

When he opened the door for me I thanked him and told him that I would keep it short.  
He was sitting on the bed with a bleeding nose. When he saw me he brightened up immediately, his eyes big and glistening, like the ones of a child.  
A smile spread on my face.

I closed the door behind me and he got up and the moment he was on his feet I pushed him against the wall to my left and kissed him so violently that he moaned into my mouth.

“Shut up,” I hissed into his mouth and kissed him again, using my tongue and lips in a way which made him surrender immediately.  
When I was satisfied I drew back and closed my eyes. He was so beautiful. I had missed the feeling of his soft lips so much. When I opened my eyes again he was looking at me, begging.

I touched his crotch and pressed mine against his, whispering into his ear: “I missed you so much. Did you miss me?”

With these words, I started grinding it against his dick, making him gasp and exhale through his nose to stifle another moan.

“I was dying for you,” he replied breathlessly, pressing his body against mine in a passionate response.

“I’m so sorry, I-“

He didn’t let me end but kissed me again. He didn’t want to hear that. When he felt that he had successfully silenced me he drew back and looked into my eyes.

“Don’t. No use crying over spilt milk.”

His mercy left me puzzled; I had not thought him capable of forgiving anyone anything, quite the contrary, taking delight in revenge. When he noticed my confusion he licked aong my lips and bumped into my crotch again.

“You can’t get rid of me at all. Neither can I of you,” he stated and I was left even more puzzled by his honesty. Give him a few weeks of isolation and he turns into a purring cat.

“I’d hug you if I just could.”

That made me smirk and I hugged him instead, immediately falling for the soft feeling of his skin, the tender flesh, the hard bones standing out, the passion in his veins. We were both hard now. Noticing that, he looked down.

“You can’t leave like that. He’ll just put you in the neighbour cell.”

“I’m running out of time.”

“I know.”

He looked me straight in the eye for a second, then got down on his knees.  
The sight made me close my eyes and stand a pleasure pang in guts. No need to tell me what to do; I knew exactly what to do. My hands shaking with need, I unbuttoned my pants and without any further word or gesture rammed it into his mouth so violently that he hit the wall. He moaned around my dick and I pressed my hand against my mouth to keep me from moaning as well. I moved back though to give him some space since I wasn’t going to fuck him.

He got the hint and started moving, forth and back, also using his tongue to add extra sensations.  
I hadn’t jerked off for a month. He teased the hell out of me with his lips, occasionally letting go of my dick and circling the glans with his tongue, then swallowing it to the hilt again, always making sure his teeth wouldn’t touch it at all. 

Not long and I leaked precum. When I looked down, watching him taking my hard dick back into his mouth again I moaned, making him look up.  
That look sent me over the edge. Piercing, loyal eyes peered at me from down there. Tensing up, I came, spilling it into his mouth and he swallowed, greedily taking everything.

It took me some time to calm down again since my head was a total mess, ecstasy and love letting me forget where I was. Patiently, he waited for me to draw back.  
I took a step back finally, stashed my dick in my pants again and knelt down to kiss him again. It was hard work to get up on my feet again and he giggled, watching me giving my best to get back to the straight serious businessman look.

Just when I had managed to get my hair back in position, he said: “Hit me. I’ll tell him a story, just hit me so it will be plausible.”  
And then, a broad smirk spread on his lips.

“You’re so sick.”

“That’s why I am here,” he replied, still smirking, “when he asks, say something about daddy issues.”

I frowned at him, but he just burst into laughter, infecting laughter.  
Still laughing away at that in-joke, he finally got up and I just hit him as hard as I could dare without breaking his bones. It sent him back on the floor again. Just for a second, the smirk disappeared and when he looked at me again, his eyes had changed. It was a miracle to me how he could enjoy that so much. 

“I’m addicted to those love marks,” he said finally, licking the bleeding spot on his lip. He was adorable, the way he was sitting on the floor, his hands tied behind his back, his hair messed up from sex.

“I know. I’ll get you out of here, somehow. And then,” I started out, giving him a lecherous smile, “I’ll just get naked, kneel down in front of you just like you did and take your balls in my mouth, lick them, squeeze them, just a little, with my teeth-“

“Just what the fuck, Wayne?!” he hissed, pressing his thighs together and shifting, “Will you fucking stop?! I’m just about-“

“And then I’ll lick the underside of your long, hard prick, up to the tip,” I whispered, then rammed my knee against his cheek so that he fell back down on the floor. I was sure he’d like it. Cause somehow, I started to like it as well.  
The smirk I saw under that heap of hair told me that I had been right.

“And I will suck you until you come in my mouth finally,” I added calmly.

With these words, I combed through my hair with my fingers again and wiped the sweat from my forehead, making myself ready for facing Nightcut for real this time.  
He shook his head to get his hair out of his face to be able to look at me. Bruised beauty.

“Don’t try anything,” he whispered, then opened his mouth to move his jaw, making me smirk, “I’ll manage on my own. I’ve always managed.”

I took a deep breath, looked at him for a last time and then put my hand on the handle.  
After one silent moment, I opened the door, stepped outside and closed it. Nightcut was waiting at the other side, leaning against the wall, featuring a curious look.  
Time for the show. I sighed. 

“Well, he tried to attack me even in that state, but I could defend myself. I hope you are not angry at me for hitting him, but I saw no other way to keep the distance.”

“Don’t worry. I would not have expected him to be violent at all, but also I make mistakes from time to time. Could you find out something?”

“At first, he refused to talk at all, but then he said something about daddy issues. Does that make sense to you?”

I could see his face dropping. Apparently, it was a running gag.

“When I asked him whether he needed that for his ego, jumping down a building in front of an audience, he turned violent. Basically, that was all.”

He was disappointed, but I couldn’t help it.

“Sorry if that is not what you wanted to hear.”

“It’s alright, I didn’t really expect some great revelations.”

“Mr. Nightcut, I need to tend to my business now, I am two days late. Excuse me.”

“Of course. I hope you will be feeling better soon, Mr. Wayne.”

“Yeah, Mr. Wayne, I also hope you will be feeling better soon!” I heard his voice through the door, imitating the doctor’s, followed by insane laughter.

I looked at the door and then back at the man. Clenching my teeth to prevent me from laughing, I stared at him, waiting for him to say something.

_It's always the same, it's just a shame, that's all_

“I’m sorry, Mr. Wayne, I think we should leave now.”

“Yeah! Leave now, you pathetic mediocrity of a Wayne! I’ll hunt you down, I swear, I’ll...”

I didn’t hear the last things anymore because we were out of reach already.  
When I finally stepped out of the building I took a deep breath, shaking off the madness. Maybe he had not been mad at all and just that place had turned him into a lunatic. Not entirely pleased with my logic, I walked to the car.  
Alfred would be worried.

Alfred was worried.  
When I had arrived at Wayne Manor and opened the door he was already there, silently asking me what had happened.  
I wasn’t very proud of that and tried to evade the topic, yet, he was like a bloodhound, once having tasted blood he would not give up until he had found the corpse.

_I could say day, you'd say night  
Tell me it's black when I know that it's white_

“Alfred...I don’t want to talk about it now.”

“That is no excuse, Sir.”

“I am not using that as an excuse! It’s just...”

I sighed. No way I could make it to the living room and to the TV without having him squeezing the truth out of me. And tomorrow? Don’t even think of tomorrow; he’d be sitting in front of me during breakfast, just looking at me, staring at me-

“I visited him and passed out, okay? Two days in coma, then visited him again and now I’m here, yes? Fine?”

He just looked at me. And that was enough to tell that he was worried as hell.

“Please, not now, Alfred, I’m tired of the ‘I told you’. Can I just have some coffee?”

“Of course.”

He went off to make coffee. 8 pm. Prime time.  
There was no excuse I could use anymore to see him. I would have to wait.  
Yet, I could barely wait anymore. At least, he had sucked me off. I’d dream of that tonight. Tonight...when I would fall asleep.

“Alfred! Forget the coffee! I’m going to sleep...”

I got up from the sofa, got rid of the jacket and dropped the rest of the clothes along the way to the sleeping room, not without taking the green ribbon out of the back pocket of my pants.

“Excellent idea, Master Bruce,” the butler mumbled to himself and emptied the water tank of the coffee machine, “Very well done. We might become friends, you green-haired cretin.”

_It's always the same, it's just a shame, that's all  
That's all._

Tired as fuck, I drew the curtains and lay down. Thinking of him, faintly smirking, I wound the ribbon around my dick and tied a bow. When I would wake up it would be hard and serve as a cock ring.  
I missed him so much.  
But there was hope.

 

______________


	7. The house of fun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Joker manages to escape from Arkham (to all our greatest surprise!) and returns to his sanctuary where he troubles and teases his favourite victim.  
> Welcome to the House of Fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's warnings: anal, explicit violence, non-consensual sadism, milking, CBT, hurt/comfort  
> Lyrics from the song “The house of fun” by Madness.  
> 

The house of fun

 

With an aching cheek, I fell asleep that night. I could sleep. The ghosts were gone, the echoes gone silent; I had seen and heard the real man talking.  
Nightcut had visited me again and asked me what had happened but I hadn’t said anything. I was done with him and everyone of this nuthouse.  
I pursued my plan and eventually stopped eating again until the head visited me. Lying on my bed, trying to look as pathetic as possible, which wasn’t too difficult at all, I curled up and whispered: “Please, I’m feeling terrible.”

_Good morning miss  
Can I help you son? _

“I have just come to check on you.”

_Sixteen today  
And up for fun_

“I never thought,” I said, turning around and looking him straight in the eye, “that I would ever say that, but it helps me so much. I can see clearly, it reveals things which have been hidden from me all my life before. I’m glad I can get that treatment.”

_I'm a big boy now  
Or so they say_

With every word of praise he grew. It was the second time after my man’s visit that I had asked for that treatment; I was very patient.  
He turned around and left the cell, inviting me to do the same. During the last two weeks, I had tried to be as lethargic and appear as devoid of hope as possible; a desperate wimp. He was taken in by my show and now allowed me to follow him without handcuffs or other ties. Soon, I had found out that I could take him by his pride, his arrogance and belief that he was superior. In fact, that was reserved for me only and he wasn’t fit to hold a candle to me. 

I walked behind him, entered the electro room and lay down. He gave me the gag and then put the electrodes on my head. I was as calm as ever. Trust made him forget to add the straps and I had just waited for the time he would forget that. He turned around to set the controls and as silently as possible, I got up behind his back, having removed the electrodes from my head already.  
Never turn your back on me. Just never.

_So if you'll serve  
I'll be on my way_

When he was done he turned around; for a second I indulged in his shocked face, then I put the pads on his cheeks and reached for the switch. Before he could take them off I had switched it on.

What a sight.  
It gave me a smile.  
Hungry for more, I increased the voltage and a joyful squee escaped me at watching his eyes popping out.  
Then, I proceeded to switching it on and off in a merciless rhythm, singing along.

“Glo” on  
“ry” off  
“Glo” on  
“ry” off  
“HALLELUUUUJAH” on

_Welcome to the house of Fun!_

And once again.  
I stretched the lujah to the maximum and then switched it off for good. He couldn’t take as much as I. Chuckling, I undressed the bleeding jerk then and put on his coat. Since he was a lot shorter it barely grazed my calves but who cared. The key ring I needed was just in his left pocket.  
For good bye, I gave him a kick and a good laugh.

“You’ll never stop me.”

In passing, I let a scalpel slid into my pocket.

_Box of balloons  
With the feather-light touch_

I pushed the door open and stepped outside. Taking a deep breath, I straightened the coat and started moving, heading for the guard’s room.  
At this time of the day, there were always at least four of them lying around there. And so it was. All of them jumped from their seats when they saw me.

“Hello ladies!”

Two of them reached for their tasers but I was faster, cutting the throat of the first one already while the second one was still trying to get it out of the holster. When the poor guy sank down on the floor with a gushing throat I grinned at him, though, it didn’t throw him and when he finally held the device in his hand I was just a meter away from him.

_Pack of party-poppers  
That pop in the night_

He tasered me. Compared to the electroshocks at room 6 they were a warm breeze. I pretended getting grilled and let myself fall down, twitching. While one of them was trying to save their colleague Jonnory the other two bent down to look at me.

“How could that happen?”

“You should get the head here, and tell the other guards.”

One of them turned around to get the phone, but I reached out and cut his Achilles tendon. With a scream, he fell down and I got up just to butcher the third idiot who had managed to get his gun ready finally. He pressed it against my forehead but I boldly took the barrel and pushed it aside; he was one of those who’d never shoot.  
A kick into his stomach sent him backwards and I took the gun from his hand and shot the one who was already unable to walk into his other leg. Then I killed the gunslinger with a head shot.

_A toothbrush and hairspray_

Only then, surrounded by whimpering and whining men, I realized that there was a fourth man standing in the back of the room, just a few meters away. He was leaning against a metal cupboard, arms crossed in front of his chest, watching me with an amused expression.  
It was one of the men who had kept me down when they had brought me to my cell after my faked suicide the first day, the one who had claimed that he liked me.  
I took a few steps towards him; his expression didn’t change. He had my respect.

“You got some neapolitan ice cream cake with raspberries flambé left?”

He smirked at me, showing me his teeth.

_Plastic grin_

“You’re not going to tell on me when I leave now?”

He pursed his lips, hiding his teeth, still looking at me with these eyes.

I smirked back, then turned around.

“The world needs more guys like you,” I said and shot the cripple-legged man in the face.

I put the gun into the pocket and walked past the other cells where the screaming lunatics where running in circles. When I heard some noise from the other side of the corridor I started runing, turning the corner and down that corridor as well till I reached the bureau section. I entered one of the bureaus and sat down behind the desk, putting my feet on the table.

_Miss Clay on all corners  
Has just walked in_

Letting my eyes wander across the desk, I noticed a framed picture. Daddy and his little girls.  
I remembered the pictures on the stone-framed fireplace at his house. Family was a nice thing if it was the right one.  
I took the picture and threw it against the wall. The glass broke.  
Just then, my stomach growled. The sound almost made me jump; I feared they’d find me there so I pressed my forefinger against my lips and shhhh-ed it.

It was the office of one of the doctors. Surely, there’d be some files somewhere too, most likely in one of the larger drawers. I took one out, turned out to be the Riddler. That man had always been a pain in the ass to me, believing that he was the smartest man on earth. Like so many others, me included.  
Licking my lips, I took a rubber and erased two words on the front of the file. Instead, I wrote down one word. Grinning with satisfaction, I put it back and took some others out of the drawer to change some more medication.

_Welcome to the house of fun  
Now I've come of age_

Taking a deep breath and squeezing my growing hard-on back into silence I leaned back again and thought of the chaos which soon would flood the ward. Fantastic.  
My work was done here and I carefully opened the door to take a look at the corridor. Silence, absence. So often, I had escaped from that locality and still, they had not updated emergency plan, still the same old idiots ruling that place and guiding their toothless sheep.

_Welcome to the house of fun  
Welcome to the lion's den_

Soundlessly, I slipped into the next room.  
Jackpot.  
Nightcut.  
I hurried to get to the desk and look for the letter J. I sharply sucked in the air at seeing how substantial that file was. Heaving the monster on the table, I sat down and opened it. It wasn’t just the handwriting of Nightcut; there were a few different ones, mostly short notes about sessions which I had denied. I flicked through some papers until something caught my interest.

I liked reading interpretations of my mind. Mostly, they were relatively true.  
This one especially.  
‘30.6.19, Monday  
Conceited, pompous, histrionic.  
3.7.19, Thursday  
Depressed, lethargic, low motivation. – Cyclothymic disorder?  
6.7.19, Sunday  
Believes to be Batman. – Multiple personality?  
10.7.19, Thursday  
Set his mattress on fire – how could that happen? 

Not that this entry was right at the beginning; it was found in the middle of the file. Every new psychiatrist tried to take his chance. I looked the first few pages up.  
Schizophrenia, SHB, self-delusion, neurosis.  
Apparently, I was a walking DSM edition. None of that bothered, upset or hurt me since I knew the truth anyway. Having people misfiguring me out was my pleasure.

_Temptation's on his way  
Welcome to the house of fun_

In fact, I had planned to take the file along and make it disappear forever; however, now when I read about their ideas and observations I decided to let them continue groping in the dark. Without changing anything, I put the file back to the others. Then I took a proper look at the room. One single mess. Books everywhere, papers, glasses, all kinds of things scattered across the room. I liked that.

I took a piece of paper and a pen and scribbled some words on it, then put it on the pile of papers to the right. Then I got up and left the room to get to the staff’s lavatory to lock myself in a toilet cabin. That had always been the safest place in Arkham.  
I made it there without getting noticed at all. For the next hour, I sat down on the toilet lid. It was an odd feeling; the first time I had done that I had been 16, hiding there from the punks of Gotham middle school.  
These days, those punks were long dead. I had personally seen to that. They had never found out who had killed them.

I closed my eyes and leaned back against the wall. Very soon, I’d sit on warm, tight legs, getting screwed senseless.  
Occasionally, I heard people passing, running, talking, but otherwise, it was silent. With my head propped up on my hand, I sat there, dreaming of a better place. Still, I didn’t want to admit that it had been myself who had done his best to fuck things up. It would always be Wayne.

_N-n-n-no no miss  
You misunderstood_

Two hours later, I opened the door and stepped outside of the cabin. No sound. Very cautiously, I opened the door of the restroom and peered outside. No one around. Confidently, I stepped outside and headed for the exit. I knew the way very well and I knew where I had to hide so no one would catch a glimpse of me. And in case someone did I would cut his throat.  
One hour later, I walked out of the ward. The night was cold, but not too cold. The faint light of the stars showed me the way across the fields to the wall. I simply climbed it and jumped down on the other side. It was high, granted, but not impossible to climb. Not for me.

I disappeared in the woods then. A long time ago, they had made sure to make an escape as hard as possible and they had put signs up by the road, warning people that they shouldn’t take hitchers along since those could possibly be escaping patients. It would have been easier to take the street but I didn’t want to get caught. By no means. Thus, I made it through the woods, taking hours, yet, being safe.

When I finally arrived at the door of Wayne Manor I stopped and took a deep breath. Just for the record, I tried the door handle to see whether it was locked; I didn’t want to be one of those fools who’d climb the window when the front door wasn’t locked at all.  
It _was_ locked. However, that door mat had not been there at all when I had visited him those three times. Bluntly, I lifted it and grabbed the key. Good man.

As silently as I could, I unlocked the door and entered, hurrying to lock it again behind me in case any overly motivated Arkham guard would come along and spot me there.  
Inside, finally. Looking into the darkness in front of me made a smirk rise. I had had enough time to plan my return and I was gleefully looking forward to it. As much as I wanted to storm his bed and rape him, I had to concentrate now. I was going to give him a warm welcome.

I spent the rest of the night wandering from one room to the other, checking for things, deducing habits, concluding and preparing some things and stuff. Then I went to the sacred chamber. As silently as possible, I opened the door of his sleeping room and entered. Good thing most rooms had a stone floor but there I had to pay attention to my steps so the wooden panels wouldn’t creak and wake him up.  
The curtains were moved aside and the dim light of the moon shone into the room, lighting it up a little. When I spotted him in bed, I felt a pleasure pang in my guts. 

_Sixteen big boy  
Full pint in my manhood_

I had been thinking of him, thinking of his face, his body, but the real thing was so much more beautiful and attractive. Unaware, he lay there, sleeping, dreaming; his black hair spread across his face, fingers spread on the pillow. I took two minutes to savour the sight, barely able to keep myself from jumping on the bed and getting some sweet satisfaction.  
He was lying on his side, one hand under the pillow, the other placed on it, half of his body covered by the blanket.

Bruce.  
I had dreamed of the moment I would meet him again, I had thought of that moment and I had hallucinated that moment into being. How had I become so dependent on him...so dependent that my life without him was bland and even somewhat pointless. He had always been the center of my life, one way or another, but the perspective had just changed those days. 

_I'm up to date_  
And the date's today  
So if you'll serve  
I'll be on my way 

Slowly, that awareness had taken over, claimed every corner of my mind until it had reached the center and I had to admit to myself that this man, me, I, who did give a damn about what people thought of me and who had tried hard to earn himself a bad name, suddenly faltered and turned buttery soft for a man. It didn’t matter that it was a man and not a woman; the principle was the same: I cared.  
Pursing my lips at becoming aware of that once again, I took a chair and placed it beside the bed to sit down on it.

He moved, his hand wandered under the blanket and a leg showed up. Silently, I got up from the chair and tugged at the seam of the bedsheet, pulling the blanket off his body. He took a deep breath, then snuggled up to the pillow, bending his legs.  
Yes, I could be a pain in the ass.  
His dick was resting on top of his thighs. Fuck had I missed that thing. Smiling a lecherous smile, I unbuttoned the white coat and my pants to free my dick.

_Welcome to the house of fun  
Now I've come of age_

The thought that he had no clue that I was just standing in front of him right now turned me on. Thursday night, just the middle of the week and I was sure he had had just another busy day, considering the many towers, businesses, stores and companies which were his. He’d have a deep sleep.  
As needy as I was, inspired by this sight, I went without any foreplay, got down on my knees in front of him and just started pumping my dick. He was so close. While losing myself in that closeness I still kept an eye on his face, watching for any sign of waking.

_Welcome to the lion's den_

One, two three, dance with thee...I straightened myself and lightly touched the base of his dick with my forefinger and traced it along; then, having arrived at the end of it, I took the prepuce between my forefinger and thumb and rubbed it as tenderly as I rubbed my glans.  
Bruce Wayne gave a sigh and turned around to lie on his back, one of his legs still bent, the other stretched out, one hand on the mattress, the other resting on his chest.  
Prime position.

_Temptation's on his way_

I left my hard-on alone and bent over him. Eyes closed, his mouth slightly open. He looked like a cupid, a grown one, like Eros himself. Dreaming.  
Carefully, I bent down, gripped his dick and dared to take his cock into my mouth. Chances were 50:50 that he would wake up, but I needed the thrill badly. He had not showered before going to bed, it let me hope that he had been very tired and spent so he wouldn’t wake up that easily now.  
Salty, sweet and a little acrid, but I didn’t mind. Whatever it tasted like, it was purely him.

Slowly, I started moving my head and hand at the same time, sucking him off while jerking off. His breathing sped up soon and I let go of his dick since it was hard enough now to stand tall on its own. Once again, I took him in fully, then let it slide from my mouth and it lay down on his stomach. Perfection. What would I have given to glimpse one second of his dream now. I let my tongue touch his tip lightly and watched him twitching. As much as I wanted to see him coming, I had to leave it at that, else I’d have woken him up for good. 

I got up and finished myself off, making my cum splash against his boner. It felt so good; it took a load off my body. It had been a long time, four weeks in the end, going without any sexual actions. I’d have loved to come in his ass, mouth or hands, but I was forcing myself to be patient; I didn’t want to spoil the party.  
Or maybe I could get what I wanted though.

I buttoned my pants and coat and then continued stroking his dick. Although I had just come his voice sent a shiver down my spine, ending at the tip of my dick. I loved it when he was moaning in pleasure, ecstatically, so unashamed, naturally, like an animal. When his eyelids started to flutter I let go, fell down on the floor and crawled under the bed. He was breathing hard and still moaning, yet I couldn’t tell whether he was awake already and probably he couldn’t tell either.

Smirking, I lay under the bed, listening for any creaking of the slatted frame. Now it was silent and he was just panting. There it was. A sound and movement, half a meter in front of my head. Maybe he had propped himself up on his elbow or something of the like.

“God damn it...” I heard him stating that above me. He still hadn’t calmed down. To see his face, the agitation, the confusion, the lust; I was so close to showing myself and I had to close my eyes to concentrate on not giving in.  
The mattress moved and he got up. With shaking legs, he left the room and just half a minute later, I left my hideout. Casually, I took the alarm clock and did the same, disappearing through the door he had not closed behind him.

I saw light shining on the stones of the corridor where I knew that the kitchen was. A special sound told me that he had closed the fridge and I hurried to hide behind a display case somewhere a little further down the aisle. The light went off and I heard him going back to his room; I couldn’t see anything since my eyes were blinded by the light and it was dark now.  
When I heard the sound of a door closing I went down the corridor to look for a room where I could stay for the rest of the short night.  
Eventually, I found one with sheets covering the furniture and I lifted one of those sheets and lay down on a sofa, hugging the alarm clock.

 

_____________

 

About three hours later, the alarm went off, almost making me jump from the sofa. I quickly turned it off and listened for a sound but it remained silent. Chuckling, I sat up and took the sheet off my head.  
I got up and went to the door to open it, but just a bit. Alfred was up already, working in the kitchen, so the sounds told me.  
Half an hour later, he entered the corridor and I peered through the slit of the door, watching him opening his Master’s door. I clutched at my mouth to keep the laugh inside and listened for the next few hours.

_Welcome to the house of fun_

“Sir, you are late! I think you’ve got a meeting at 8am and it is 7!”

Bruce Wayne opened a sorry eye and peered at the butler, not understanding at all.

“What?”

“Sir! You’re still in bed, you should be having breakfast already!”

“Which day?”

“Friday!”

The butler was getting angry.

“Now Sir, please, if you don’t want to be late you should get up finally!”

“A meeting? Why...I got the alarm clock, why...”

He reached for the clock and his fingers hit the wood of the bedside table.

“Where...”

Laboriously, he lifted his head and inspected the empty spot.

“Darn it, Alfred! Where the heck is the clock?!”

“Master Bruce, how should I know where you put it, get up now!”

“Geez, yes, man...gonna take a shower. Prepare the coffee meanwhile.”

“Please.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

_I'm sorry son_  
But we don't stock  
Party gimmicks  
In this shop 

The butler rolled his eyes and left to prepare the coffee and Bruce Wayne got up from the bed, fondled his morning boner silent and then was about to take the first step of the day when he noticed that his pubes were clotty. Looking down at his crotch brought the memories of the night back which made him smirk.  
With a smug smile, he went to the bathroom and had his morning piss in a seated position. He was too tired than to throw his weight around, especially if there was no audience anywhere in sight.

When he reached for the toilet paper he reached into emptiness. There was just the empty role on the pole. Sighing, he reached behind him to get a full one from the toilet tank but there was none either. Now cursing, he wiped his dick dry with his hand and stepped into the shower tub.

“Master, Bruce, are you making some progress?” the butler was heard through the door.

“I’d be making more progress if there just was some fucking toilet paper left!” his Master replied, noticeably annoyed. Presented with so many adversities, his dick had already given up and retreated. Sighing again, his Master gave his pubes an extra wash to get the dried cum out of them and then tended to his head hair.  
After ten very short minutes of a wet break he stepped out of the tub and dried his body with a towel.

He disappeared in his dressing room and showed up in jeans and shirt again. His butler didn’t approve of that since he had expected him to be dressed appropriately already since, surprise, he was late. Yet, he didn’t say anything.  
Bruce Wayne hurried to take a seat and just when he had sat down he jumped from the chair again, feeling for the seat of his pants.

“Alfred! Why’s the seat wet?!”

“What?”

“The seat! I sat down and it’s wet there!” he repeated and looked at his hand, not quite believing what he was feeling either.

_Try the House of Fun  
It's quicker if you run_

“Must’ve spilled the coffee there, I’m sorry, Master Bruce...”

“Darn it to hell!!!”

With these words, he left the kitchen and returned, then minutes later, dressed in his business suit.  
He sat down again and took the sugar dispenser to sweeten his coffee. When he turned it upside down the top of it fell off and spilled its content over his coffee. Bruce Wayne freaked out then.  
With rage sparkling eyes, he threw the small glass against the wall and got up to whirl out of the room, yelling: “Holy motherfucker, I guess I can only have some peace at work today, goddarnit!!!”

“MASTER BRUCE!!!”

“FUCK YOU!!!”

_This is a chemist  
Not a jokers' shop! _

I leaned against the door, tears streaming down my cheeks which already hurt from the strain. He was on his way to work now, having given up Wayne Manor. When I heard them walking towards the front door, I opened my door a little more and could watch him getting dressed for leaving. I didn’t hear what their debate was about but it took quite some time until he left, having the butler following him outside. He didn’t lock the door so I took it that Bruce Wayne was going by himself.

On tiptoes, I hurried to get to the door to be there when Alfred would return. Expectantly, I waited there, looking down at my shoes, up my coat, noticing some stains on it.  
The sound made me look up, looking straight into the eyes of a man who had expected everything but what he saw now. With his fingers on the door handle, he froze, eyes wide in surprise and even a little fear. Benevolently, I grinned at him.

_Party hats_

“You,” he finally spat out. His eyes wandered down my coat and I knew that his eyes got stuck at the nasty blood stains. For a long time, they lingered on the red, then they met mine again. He took a deep breath and his mind visibly got used to the idea of having me around.

“Coffee?” he asked with a voice as nonchalant as that one of the Buddha himself.

“I’m dying for some,” I replied, still grinning.

He closed the door behind him and passed me, going to the kitchen. There, I sat down next to his Master’s place. I wasn’t up for provocation at all; I wanted to get him on my side rather. He poured me and himself a cup of coffee and then sat down as well, right in front of me.  
I added some sugar to my coffee, stirred heavily, took a sip and then looked at him.

“If you hurt him you will leave immediately, I will see to that, be assured,” he snarled, opening fire.

_Simple enough clear_

“I don’t seek to hurt him,” I replied calmly, tilting my head a little.

“I don’t approve of you being here. In my sight, you are just low filth.”

_Comprehend savvy understand_

“What a disarming honesty,” I grinned at him, grinning to hide my hurt pride. No, I wasn’t beyond praise and criticism, you could still hurt me with words. And he knew that it had struck home.

“But I see how much he has changed during that time and I approve of _that_. Know that you are just a means to me, nothing more.”

“I can live with that,” I replied dryly. That probably was the greatest concession I could get from him.

He moved the spoon around in his coffee, looking a little sour. I couldn’t help chuckling to myself. Eventually, he took the spoon out of the cup and put it on the table, then looked up at me.

“I just wonder why out of all these honourable women and men of Gotham, why it had to be you.”

“I can’t help it,” I snorted, unwilling to put up with his derogatory words any longer, “maybe it’s because no one else knows him as well as I do.”

“Oh Mister, what actually is your name? I will not consent to calling you Mister Joker.”

“Call me Snake.”

“I should have known better,” he said with a sigh, “but you are kidding me. I know a handful of people who know him as well as you think you know him.”

“Really? You included, I guess. Well, why does he smoke pot?”

His eyes told me that he was tired of this kind of conversation, that he was identifying my jokes and tropes and terribly annoyed at finding me continuing with them.

“Because he thinks he can rebel in a socially acceptable way by doing so.”

“Wrong.”

“How would YOU know…”

“Why? Cause I try to understand him.”

My words hit home, I could see that.

“He’s lonely,” I added smugly, “Lonely. You’re not enough; you’re just his father figure. He needs someone by his side.”

“I could have just said something like that as well, that doesn’t show me that you know him at all,” he snarled.

“Whatever. Just accept it.”

He gave me the evil eye, clearly up for another round.

“How did you meet at all? Or, how come you…” 

He licked his lips and looked down, then up at me again. I was not going to help him and put these words into his mouth.

“Well, how come you ended up having sexual intercourse with him?”

“You mean, how I ended up fucking him?”

“Yes.”

“Just for the record, your Master Bruce fucks _me_.”

He closed his eyes and sighed. We’d become awesome friends, he just didn’t know about that yet.

“In fact, he likes it when I-“

“Thank you! Thanks for your bloody explanations; sadly, I can just imagine,” he growled, clenching the spoon. 

_Do you hear?_

I had never seen him angry. Thus, I found it amusing and showed him so by a wide grin. When he noticed that his face turned a little redder even, but he said no more word. I took a deep breath and crossed my legs, leaned back and took the cup.

“How awful it must be to have your nemesis comfortably sitting on the kitchen bank with a cup of freshly ground coffee, knowing that this sorry ass regularly gets penetrated by the dear boy you have raised and brought up to become a model citizen and primo businessman, always believing that he once would bury his extraordinarily long dick in a hot chick’s-“

The coffee was hot enough to burn off my eyelashes. Hotness exploded on my skin as he had thrown the coffee in my face. I forced myself to keep my hands where they were and to wait a minute, then I wiped it off my eyes and opened them.  
The butler was standing by the sink, washing his cup and some parts of the coffee machine.

“Can’t take a joke, eh?” I called over, drying my face with the coat, getting even more stains on it.

_A pack of party hats_

“That was no joke, you sick lunatic!” he yelled, turning around with dripping hands.

I gave a short laugh, “Haah, you’re right. It wasn’t, this time.”

“You are just a bloody obnoxious creature! If it wasn’t for the good of Master Bruce I would have poisoned you already and watched you dying a painful death with froth at your mouth, internal bleedings, vomiting black bile!”

“Oh be my guest,” I said with a charming smile.

“Just get out of my eyes, you unholy beast!”

_With the coloured tips_

“As you please,” I stated and got up, took the coffee with me and went to the living room to switch on the TV. I knew that I would annoy the living daylights out of him by that, taking great delight in upsetting that man since in the end, he had been the one who had sent me to Arkham. And knowing that I was the protégé of Bruce Wayne just allowed me talk big without fearing any consequences at all. Except burnt eyelashes maybe.

While watching a fat man explaining how to properly prepare roe deer for cooking, I smiled at thinking of the old hag. Of course he just wanted the best for his boy, yet, he wouldn’t understand that I was the best. Considering my past it was close to impossible to believe in me meaning well for him, but I was serious about it. I had given up my life for him.  
As my eyes slid across the room I noticed the bar area. I decided then to help myself.

_Too late!  
Gorgon's heard gossip_

Six hours later, Bruce Wayne returned from his meeting. Mr. Agassy had visited him as well, insisting on talking about his plans before the weekend and then, Mr. Supershores had come as well, “just dropping by to bring the statistics”. It had turned into a two hour talk in the end.  
Tired, demotivated and lovesick as always, he undressed to get back into his jeans and shirt and went into his office room to pour himself a drink.

With a green ribbon in his hand, he emptied it and poured himself another one which he took along to the desk. He sat down in his luxurious leather swivel chair and sighed.

“Fuck where are you,” he said into the silence.

Pursing his lips in resignation, he leaned back and sipped his drink.

“Saturday’s coming, where are you...”

_Well hello Joe, hello Miss Clay_

He took a deep breath, emptied the glass and then prepared to take care of the paperwork patiently waiting for him on his desk. Flicking through some pages, he sighed for the twentieth time and absent-mindedly reached for a pen to his right. Finding nothing but empty space, he looked at the spot to convince himself of his correct perception. No pen.  
He searched the entire desk for a writing device, opened drawers, more drawers, shoving more paper aside until his eyes grew and his jaw grinded against his upper teeth.

“Oh bloody hell!!! ALFRED!!!”

Two minutes later, Alfred appeared.

“Yes, Master Bruce?”

“Can you just get me a pen?”

“Master Bruce, are you telling me that in this holy chaos of yours, you are unable to find a pen?”

“Yes,” he replied, his voice quivering with anger, “and if you don’t go, immediately, to get me one I will just turn the entire house upside down and piss on the floor right now!”

“Good Lord,” his butler mumbled and left again.

“I dunno who’s worse by now,” the butler kept grumbling, going back to the kitchen to get himself a pen. He passed the green-haired man who was holding his nose and pressing his lips together to keep himself from bursting into laughter and just took a rollerball from a drawer.

“Fuck you,” he stated when he passed the man again and went back to the office to hand it over.

“Al, I said a pen.”

“Sorry, Master Bruce, we are out of pens.”

He sighed and took it from his butler’s hands. It would do for now.  
With overwrought nerves, Bruce Wayne tended to the paperwork again, signing here, crossing things out there, taking some notes anywhere. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to do that for much longer anymore; he already had to force himself to tend to his business which usually was natural for him, like eating, sleeping, tending to the business thing.  
After the second page of that contract he looked up, let his eyes slide across the room and stopped at the small cupboard by the left. 

He was sure that Alfred had missed the recently installed secret stash when he had cleansed the house of alcohol. Highly motivated to get his brains screwed, he got up and went to the cupboard. He opened it and reached behind the board. Feeling something cold, he smirked to himself. That was all he needed. He freed the bottle from the cupboard and boldly took a swig. Liking what he tasted, he took another one. Liking even more what he tasted at second attempt, he took the bottle along to the desk and sat down again, yet, safely storing it on the floor in case his butler would bolt in.

With a numbed mind, he took the contract to read through it again and he was sure he would make the wrong decision in the end, but that didn’t matter anymore.  
It never came to that.  
With a loud bang, the doors hit the walls and strutting in came a tall man with green hair, dressed in a formerly white coat.

I had been waiting for that moment when he seemed to be at his wits ends. That day had been enough to move him a little closer to madness. But just a little.  
With a smirk from one ear to the other I strode along, making the white coat swing around my legs in a delicate way.  
Bruce Wayne looked up and his mouth dropped. He took off his glasses, then he got up and with wide eyes came walking towards me like a man seeing a ghost.

_Many happy returns from the day_

The impact of our reunion almost sent me to the floor, hadn’t he pulled me back into his embrace. That one moment revealed everything to me. He had retrieved his life, so it seemed. However, he wasn’t the only one who turned emotional at seeing his lover again; I couldn’t help it either. 

Our lips met in purest passion, quickly moving, greedily touching everything they could just reach, our tongues meeting and making themselves at home in the other’s mouth again. Just then, I felt his hand on my buttocks, squeezing as passionately as he was just biting down on my lips and I couldn’t withstand that temptation and did the same, bringing my hand to his ass and fondling it. I did not consider myself too good than to show my emotions at all; I needed that as much as he seemed to need it, that long time we had been forced to spend without the other, in darkness, in doubts, in pain, even in madness now had an end. One moment could change a life.

I formed his name with my lips, breathing it into his mouth and he responded to that by pulling me closer again, pressing his crotch against mine. He kissed me for another time, then, quite abruptly, he took my chin and drew back a little so there was some space between our faces.  
Then, I saw the beauty.

His dark eyes were glued to mine, exploring them, then wandering down, caressing my nose and my lips with nothing but attention, my cheek bone, my hair and back to my eyes again. He seemed rapt with what he saw, of what he knew that it was his. His appreciation, his worship made me feel wobbly inside; if that meant so much to him it must have been true. Closing my eyes and smiling an indulgent smile, I gave him some moments to let it all sink into his mind, then I lifted my hand and touched his crotch.

_Welcome to the house of fun  
Now I've come of age_

His grip tightened and I drew a gasp from him while he jerked backwards. What a beautiful creature. I laid my hand on his dick and broadened my smile to a smirk. He couldn’t resist. Confidently, he caught my hand between his and my dick and almost squeezed it numb.  
That man had been suffering, clearly.  
To worsen his state some more, I took a step back and gave his dick another squeeze and he gasped and put his hand on mine, torn between trying to get my hand off his genitals or squeezing as well.

_Welcome to the house of fun  
Welcome to the lion's den_

“Been a long time, what?” I sneered, slightly moving my fingertips like playing a song on his dick.

“Too long,” he rasped, took my hand and pulled on it so that I stumbled back into his embrace. No chance I could keep this man from getting what he wanted.  
I earned myself a bruise on my lips for my tease; he bit down and kept my head in place until he tasted blood. Just then, feeling the pain dealt by him, I realized that I had been missing that even more than his love. Driven by that primitive need, I kissed back and tried to bruise him as well, but he pursed his lips and smirked, pressing his nose against mine so I couldn’t reach him with my teeth anymore.

“You’re such a tease,” I gnarled, my dick begging for his lips.

It drew a short laugh from him before his hand wormed its way through the coat just to be a little closer to my dick. His touch made me gasp in return and close my eyes. I didn’t know for how long I could stand it anymore.  
Days. Weeks. Months. I needed him too badly.

_Temptation's on his way  
Welcome to the house of fun_

Impromptu, I violently tore at the button of his pants, tore at the fly while fending his interfering fingers off, and finally, like an octopus closing its tentacles around its prey, clutching at his naked dick. A series of lust-triggering images shot through my mind and pleasure rippled down my spine, making me pant within a second. My reaction made him chuckle and he let me do as I liked. His pants dropped to his knees and I massaged his dick under the thick cotton of his underwear while he started kissing my neck.

“Master Bruce!” I heard an ungodly voice in the distance.

I was sure that he had just been waiting for that moment to barge in on us like I had been waiting for my moment to surprise him. With a deep breath, I let go of the delightfully swollen piece and faced him. Yet, he did that before me, turning around, showing me his back and his butler his anger.  
In complete silence.  
I looked at the butler and when I heard no words I turned my head to look at him. Chilling cold, narrowed eyes looked poisoned daggers at the old man who had sucked in some air to continue his reproach, but who helplessly exhaled at that sight again.

For another moment, the butler stood it, then, intimidated, he turned around and left. I took advantage of the situation and approached him from behind, quickly back at kneading his dick through the fabric again.

“Lovely, Master Bruce, lovely,” I crooned into his ear, smirking, because I knew that his cold eyes would hit me in a second. And so they did. When he turned around he pulled my hand out of his underpants and jostled me towards the desk till I hit it with my ass. He reached past me and just when I realized what he was about to do he did it. One smooth move from the collar to the seam and the pretty white coat had been cut open, buttons falling to the floor as he had cut some thread as well.

When I looked up I found him smirking a worrisome grin. Cold metal made me gasp as he pushed the scissors past the waistband of the ward pants; another snip and they fell to the floor. He looked down and pursed his lips, chuckling to himself. Found guilty, I looked down as well just to see that pretty rose blooming.

His fingers lightly touched the petals. I could barely keep myself from going for him. He moved his fingers through my pubes, making me lose all reason. To feel and to see his hand touching me after such a long time of abstinence made me go wild. I was breathing hard just from his touch and I let myself fall; I wasn’t ashamed of myself anymore.

He traced my dick down to the tip, then gave it a nudge with his forefinger and leaned in. I expected him to kiss and nibble my ear so I closed my eyes and smiled.

“Get a shower, then you can get your fuck,” he whispered into my ear.

I opened my eyes again, feeling my pride suffering.

“What, am I insulting your olfactory nerves?” I replied sourly, butthurt from the fall from cloud nine.

“I insist,” he whispered and then bit my ear while giving my tip an encouraging squeeze.

“You get me all worked up, begging, fucking begging for your prick in my ass and then you send me off to shower?”

“Exactly.”

I could see how much pleasure he drew from prick-teasing me. Sighing, I stepped out of my pants, shed the coat and went to the shower, trying to wiggle my ass as teasingly as possible in return. I knew I just turned him on as much as he was making me hard.  
When I left the room I threw the door shut. If I was going to suffer he would be going to suffer as well. Casually, I strode towards the bathroom, hoping to meet Alfred on the way as my dick happily bounced up and down.

Yet, he had made sure to be as far away as possible and I met no one on the corridor than my needy self. Fuck him. I’d just jerk off in the shower. Determined to deprive him of the joint fun I closed the door behind me and stepped into the shower tub. Scowling, I turned on the water and closed my eyes. The few occasions I had been allowed to shower at Arkham had been more hell than enjoyable, either having them hosing me down with ice cold water or when I was lucky and those other guys were in charge, being allowed to shower in the filthy wet room where the water was just as cold.

I lifted my head and let the warm water run down my face. Freedom only exists in your head, they said, but I was of a different opinion. I rather enjoyed it if I really was free to do what I pleased and didn’t need to cling to a theoretical concept of freedom in my head.  
Bruce Wayne would need to pay extra for the water bill this month.

After an eternity of warmth falling gently on my head I examined the shower gel collection on the shelf.  
Luxor. For the smart businessman who earns a million bucks a day.  
Amaryllis. For the jungle in our chest.  
Opium. For the woman.  
Chocolate and Leather. For the brave.  
WonderWeed. For the alternative way of saying Fuck you.  
MountainMist. For the mystery within.  
Sounded...mysterious. I took it and dropped a generous amount of it on my hand to spread it on my body. To be on the safe side, I added some Opium as well.

_Welcome to the house of fun_

And indeed, it smelt mysterious.  
Back in high spirits, I massaged my dick, making it smell all mysterious as well. Gently, I cupped my balls then and spread my ass cheeks to add some mysterious touch to that spot as well. Again, I turned on the water and abandoned myself to the vice of the wilful waste of liquid. After another 10 minutes I just wanted to take a look at the shampoo collection when the door sprang open and a furious Wayne entered.  
Act three.

Since he was naked I missed all his angry words and just concentrated on the beauty of his body until he tore at the shower tub door and stepped in as well.  
Instantly, I was pushed against the wall and a hard dick pressed against my entry. Mysteriously.  
Fingers tightly gripped my dick and I almost sank to the floor, overwhelmed by that gorgeous feeling.

_Now I've come of age_

Two fingers were pushed in and I silently moaned against the tiles, having been dreaming of that moment for so long. He made short shrift of it and pressed the fingers against the tender tissue, spreading it while he breathed into my ear that I was a darned asshole. I liked my Wayne like that, horny and harsh.  
After some violent attempts to stretch it to the right size he removed them and shoved the tip of his dick in. I opened my mouth to gasp, but he filled it with his fingers, making me taste my own shit.

It was then when I decided to not leave him alone for longer than a week anymore; he’d just come up with strange ideas if he was on his own for too long.  
Disgusted by the taste, I turned my head away and caught a glimpse of his smirk. Just then, he shoved the rest in and I exhaled a moan, feeling his hardness displacing the sensitive tissue of my colon. I enjoyed every second of it, every shade of emotion that feeling evoked, every inch of skin which got touched, every molecule which was in the air, speaking of mysteries yet to be discovered.

_Welcome to the house of fun  
Welcome to the lion's den_

“I missed you,” he breathed into my ear and wound his arms around my body, embracing me like a child embraced its mother. He kissed my neck, then he drew back and pushed it in again, still holding me.  
I forgot everything. The world around me faded as I closed my eyes and I abandoned myself to his tender care.  
Gently rocking back and forth, he brought me close to orgasm within a minute and I tensed up to keep him from moving.

“I can’t hold back anymore,” I huffed, my cheeks burning from the heat and my dick leaking already. Sometimes, I didn’t need more than an image to cling to in order to come. A few strokes and you’d have me yelling with release. Also this time, thinking of him screwing me, thinking of his dick sliding in and out of my ass was enough to drive me over the edge.  
When he closed his fingers around my dick my knees gave way and I commented the assault by releasing a long moan.

“Say please”

_Temptation's on his way_

I smirked and turned my head to let him see my eyes. When I was sure that he was looking, I closed them and concentrated on swallowing that smirk. He held perfectly still.  
Slowly, I opened them again and gave him the most honest, pleading look I was capable of.

“Please, Bruce”

He flexed his fingers and he took a deep breath, obviously forcing himself to not come at the mere words and images either.

“Make me cum,” I added, my voice shaking at trying so hard to hold back. It was no lie, no fake, no pretence; he made me beg and despair.  
I could see him enjoying the sight for another moment before he started pumping my dick and moving again and it did barely take half a minute and I pressed my hands and forehead against the wall and came, panting hard and loudly. The contractions of my ass made him come as well and he made our bodies join again, bringing his lips to my ear and fuelling my orgasm by his passionate moans.

Salvation.

_Welcome to the house of fun_

He left first then, leaving me behind in a purple cotton wool cloud. Eventually, I managed to take another mini shower and finally left the tub as well. When I was done I left the bathroom, naked. He was waiting outside, dressed already.

“Gotta get you some clothes now, I think.”

“If you don’t want to scare your butler with my massive dick then you better get me some, yes.”

He turned around and I followed him to the room with the cupboards. He opened one of them and started rummaging through the stuff. With crossed arms, I watched him, leaning against the cupboard. I was sure he wouldn’t just give me some pair of jeans and a shirt.  
Eventually, he handed me over a pair of jeans and immediately disappeared in the cupboard again. Pursing my lips, I put them on, only to find out that they didn’t end above but below my hips. I took a deep breath and looked down, then twisted my head to get my buttocks into view.

“Like em?” 

His words made me hurry to face him again. Pure mischief was in his eyes. I had never felt that evil aura yet. That time apart really had changed us when in all honesty, it felt like I had become more like him and he had become more like me.

“A little tight,” I stated neutrally.

“Good. Your tee.”

I took the piece of clothing from him and put it on. A simple slim-fit black tee.

“You know...undies would have been the hit,” I remarked.

“I’m out of them, they’re in the dirties,” he smirked back.

“Sure,” I replied and tugged at the tee to keep it from sticking to my nipples.

I could see how pleasing that sight was for him. His eyes ascended from my legs to my face, finally.

“You need to get a haircut.”

“Anything else?” I snapped back with an angry voice. I started to feel like a protégé, which, in fact, I was. Though, I wasn’t pleased with that at all. Snorting, I turned around and was about to leave the room when he hugged me from behind.

“Godawful Jones, let me tease you for a bit, you haughty asshole,” he whispered into my ear, grinning, “I’ve had no one to talk to for months.”

“Your own fault.”

He made me move into his arms when he rubbed my nipple hard.

“ _Youy_ acted the butthurt dramaqueen, not I,” he continued.

“Know why? Cause I love you.”

With these words, I left his embrace and got out of his sight. Maybe that would bring him back down to earth. He was just a pain in the ass that way. I went to the kitchen to get me another cup of coffee but he followed me, continuing his seduction in the cooking place.

Alfred sat in his small room a few meters away and tried very hard to concentrate on the sentences he had just been reading for the third time. The chuckling and shrieking drove him mad, especially since he knew that half of those were coming from his master.  
Clenching his teeth, he got up and kicked the door shut. He would have to accept it, eventually. To his displeasure, the noise lasted for longer than he had expected it to.

A few hours later, we went to bed, together. Something was wrong, slightly wrong, but I couldn’t tell what it was. Maybe it was just the fact that we hadn’t seen each other for too long; too many pent-up emotions, too many unsaid words by then.  
As I lay in bed, trying to solve the riddle of Wayne, he hugged me gently. Just some moments later, I fell asleep.

When I woke up again I was alone. Daylight, empty room. With a deep breath, I got up and got dressed, then wandered into the kitchen where the butler was preparing lunch, dinner or breakfast, no idea.

“Good morning, Sir. Had a rough night?” he greeted me with his stupid dialect before I could sit down by the table.

“The party in my pants is over. Where is he?”

“Master Bruce had to attend a meeting. Apparently, he chose to let you sleep.”

“What’s the time now?”

“4.”

I took a deep breath again and put my chin on the table. I felt like a servant, waiting for his master to come home and find him waiting on the bed, naked, ready to get fucked. It was degrading.

“Can I have some coffee?”

Wordlessly, he prepared a cup for me. I cleared my throat and couldn’t push those thoughts away at all. What had happened to my life? What had happened to me? I was sitting in the kitchen of Wayne Manor, waiting to be served a cup of coffee by Bruce Wayne’s Cockney butler, dressed in Bruce Wayne clothes, much too tight, I had to mention that, waiting for Bruce Wayne to return home. For a second, I felt the unconquerable need to get up and leave. 

The next second, I remembered those feelings when I was alone, separated from him. More unbearable than being here, in fact, so I stayed where I was, fighting that fight in silence until he brought me that cup.  
I must have looked so miserable that he sat down to take a proper look at me.

“Yeah, you like that, huh, seeing me like that,” I snarled, voicing my misery so it might get better that way.

“In fact, no, Sir.”

I tasted some coffee, then I looked up at him and then back at the black puddle on the table.

“I’ve tried to end it. He’s tried to end it. Hasn’t worked out. So maybe it works out this way.”

He placed his chin on his folded hands and kept staring at me.

“You just couldn’t leave each other alone in hate either,” he mumbled.

“No, we couldn’t. I couldn’t.”

I spent drinking the cup in silence, having him looking at me. Whatever he saw, I didn’t care. I knew that I didn’t need to talk to reveal myself.  
Eventually, I wandered to the living room to switch on the TV and distract myself from the scary truth. Animals eating animals, people cooking animals, animals fucking animals, just until he returned home. I was about to jump from the sofa and run towards him when my pride kicked in and I remained seated, waiting for him to greet me. And so he did. When he called for me I looked at him, his presence instantly raising my spirits.  
He changed his clothes, then joined me on the sofa. 

“Just in time for the news.”

He looked at the TV while I kept looking at his face. I had missed that sight and everything which was behind those eyes.  
Suddenly, slowly and without me being aware of it, the corners of my mouth rose.

“...the incident at Arkham. After the bloody massacre, the Joker is still missing, the police is looking for any relevant information...”

I watched his smile dropping. Mine grew. Time for some turmoil, I was totally up for that after that boring day. He stared at the screen for some more moments till he faced me with a look like fallen from grace.

“What have you done?”

My smirk broadened and I tried to look as innocent as possible at the same time.

“Can’t help being me,” I replied with a shrug, looking back at the TV. Bloodstained walls. This was the time when I could defeat him and get back on top again. The reign of Bruce Wayne, come to an end.

“What did you do?!”

“I just killed those who deserved it,” I tried to calm him down but instantly realized that that attempt had gone terribly wrong when he eyed me.  
He said nothing for so long until I started to feel awkward and that really meant something. Just his tiny pupils looking holes into my eyes.

“That’s inacceptable. You can’t just...”

“Just what?”

“Run around and kill people!”

“Why?”

“Cause-“

He went silent, understanding that I had him by the balls.

“Cause you’re my partner now?” I ended the sentence for him.

The silence told me that I was right. I might have been bedlam, but I could still read people.

“That means that it was alright to kill people when I had not been ‘your partner’?”

“No!”

“What’s it about then?”

“It’s never been alright to kill people!”

I enjoyed driving him crazy, showing him about my world.

“Not for you.”

“Not for anyone!!!”

“I am not simply ‘anyone’,” I said, trying to get him even madder.

He clenched his teeth and stared at me with wide eyes. Yes, how could that happen. How could I dare kill people when I got fucked by Bruce Wayne at the same time? Inacceptable. It wasn’t like I had to decide whether I wanted to be the Joker or his lover. Or was it that which he demanded of me?  
I gave a laugh, which threw him completely, since he took it as a tease.

He got up, took my hand and forced me to get up as well. Silently, he pushed me into the sleeping room and made me sit on the bed. I tried to read his eyes, but he just wouldn’t let me see them. Whatever he was up to, it was going to be fun, I could tell that much.  
Ruthlessly, he pulled the pants from my legs and the shirt from my chest.  
Then, he went to some small cupboard and returned with ropes. That made me smile, instantly.

Rough, good, honest sex. I wanted to taste him when he was upset.  
Without any complaint but a broad smirk, I let him tie my hands to the headboard. Also when he spread my legs and tied them to the bed frame, I let it happen. After he had safely tied me up he opened a drawer next to me and took out some lube.

A short amused snort coming from me made him look up, but he kept his cool. He spread some of it on two fingers and then bluntly pushed them through my anus. I couldn’t help the jerk, yet, when he was inside I felt the excitement growing. I could feel his trembling anger. With his teeth clenched, he made himself comfy within my ass and touched the soft walls. Yet, when I had been thinking that I knew what was coming now I was terribly wrong.

He slid his fingers further in until he touched something which reflexively made me lift my head. A slight move and I groaned.

“What the heck are you doing?” I panted. A quick glance at his face told me that his anger had made way for something I couldn’t really draw pleasure from: amusement.

“What? I can’t believe you’ve never done that,” he replied with a smirk and added more pressure to it which made me press my head against the pillows. Gently, he stroked the spot until I started writhing.  
From semi-hardness to solid steel within a few moments. Though, I was slightly confused at seeing cum trickling from my dick without me coming at all.  
When he saw that he bent down and licked it clean.

“Can’t we just do it the normal way?” I remarked, feeling the intense need to feel that enjoyable pain of his hard dick stretching my ass.  
He just smiled at me and kept massaging the spot until I couldn’t keep calm anymore at all. Just when I was close to orgasm he stopped, removed his fingers and instead, wound a green ribbon around my dick. I recognized _my_ green ribbon. Just that it was speckled with white stains.

“Is that my-uuh”

Too tight for my taste. But I understood that I didn’t stand a chance against him in this mood so I would have to bear it. 

“Isat mine?” I repeated again, this time a little more weakly than before.

“I’ve always been keeping it close to me,” he raved.

“I can just imagine,” I said sardonically, knowing where those white spots were coming from.

He kissed my glans then and pushed the fingers back in and instantly, they were glued to that troublesome spot again. A few more strokes, a gentle squeeze and semen spilt from my dick. I was breathing hard and was just expecting the pleasure waves of orgasm when there came none. Highly confused now and even a little irritated, I lifted my head to look at him. That look of mine made him burst with laughter, but he kept his fingers inside, still stroking me there.

“You know, you can stop now. You’ve had your fun. And I haven’t,” I added with a sour whiff of disappointment. Precious cum wasted like that drove me wild.  
Staring at him in disbelief didn’t change anything so I lay down again and waited for him to grow tired of it all. He seemed to be in an exceptionally creepy mood today.  
I couldn’t blame him. I always was in an exceptionally creepy mood when I was around him. Patiently, I stared at the ceiling and just enjoyed being close to him.

Just when it started to get uncomfortable to the extent when it turned into painful I shifted again and tried to move in a way to get his fingers out of my ass. Panting, I tried to sit up as much as possible and deal him such an annoyed look that I hoped it would make him stop instantly.  
But it didn’t.

“What the fuck are you up to?” I asked, irritated to no ends.

He pushed against the spot and I flinched in pain.

“Are you kidding me? What the-“

Another squeeze and I moaned with discomfort. Things were getting quite surreal.  
When he brought his other hand to my glans and started rubbing it I couldn’t take it anymore. I tore at the ropes and tried to dodge his touch but he was determined to bring hell upon me.

“Wayne!!! What the fuck is up with you?! Can you just stop this shit?!”

He bent down and licked across my tip which made me shudder, then he just kept rubbing it with his thumb.  
No use.  
He had made sure to render me as immobile as possible; I could barely bend my legs nor my arms and I could do shit to keep him from that tease. Pain is so close to pleasure.

When I finally had to press my lips together to keep me from wailing I lifted my head to silently tell him that I had had enough. He noticed that and rested his fingers on the glans, looking up at me from below. A tiny movement of his thumb and I bucked and hissed in pain.  
It couldn’t be that just me killing those idiots had upset him that much and let him act the prime egoist now. I liked it when he challenged me, but sex without pleasure was something I didn’t quite understand.

“Bruce,” I tried again, still panting, “Just what is wrong? Tell me!”

Another passionate rub and he had me silenced again. Whatever he was trying to prove with it, I would have to bear it. It was like he was out of his senses. A stinging pain told me that I was so sore by now that the skin of my glans was weeping. It would need days to heal.  
Desperately, I tried to turn away, get my thigh between me and him, but it didn’t work out. He, noticing my attempts to spoil his fun, let go of the damaged piece and slapped me so hard that I was speechless for a minute. 

I had taken many hits, many kicks, many blows, slaps as well over time, but never one like this one. Still benumbed from the meaning of that blow, I just clenched my teeth when he touched me there for one last time before he got up. The skin was stinging and I was feeling sick.  
However, he left the room and I knew that things would get worse. It was like one of our sessions, only that he was serious about it this time. I had never witnessed him like that.

While he was away I tried to regain my composure and get back to my usual nonchalance, and it worked, to some extent. As much as it could work out with an aching glans and an ass on fire.  
Eventually, he returned with a tube in his hand. With a faint smirk, he sat down between my legs and pressed some toothpaste out of it. I snorted and tried to smirk as well, but it just turned into a pathetic smile. I felt hurt.

“What, are we going to have a little-“

He covered the tip of my dick with it, then stored it away. For three seconds, I was looking at that image in disbelief until the effect set in. A fiery, burning pain, growing worse every second, made me gasp in mental as well as physical overload.

“What are you...” I breathed, squirming and writhing in horrible discomfort, desperately trying to free my hands to wipe it off.  
Narrow eyes watched me.  
I threw my head back in pain; no, that wasn’t the kind of pain I usually enjoyed, not even close to that. It still got worse. Since I had already been sore it felt like it was burning all tissue, vessels and blood away. 

While I tried hard to not give him the satisfaction he obviously was looking for, he sat there calmly and watched me as I broke out into a cold sweat.

“What do you want?!” I yelled at him, tearing at the ropes, losing myself in the killing sensation of uncomfortable pain. Yes, that was the moment when I lost it. Never in my life, I had been so furious, so humiliated and so hurt as to forget myself so completely. It was embarrassing, but I couldn’t help it.

“I don’t want anything,” he replied in a very detached way. I had never seen him like that, enjoying the sight of a suffering man so coldly. It was the absolute contrary to his usual behaviour. Apparently, I had managed to piss him off very badly. 

“Just punishment, nothing else. Doesn’t mean I don’t love you.”

Now he drove me mad.

“What are you just trying to tell me?! Punishment what for?!”

“For the men you have killed at Arkham.”

I gritted my teeth and lay down, trying to take the pain like a man, but how could I when it was about my man parts. It was ridiculous. Punishment for the men I had killed at the nuthouse.

“They deserved it!” I screamed with big eyes, probably looking like a model madman right then, “every single one of them deserved what I did to them!!!”

“You are to judge them?”

“Yes, fucking yes!!! You know shit what they did to me there!”

“For example?”

I clenched my teeth, unwilling to talk about those things at all. Instead, I tugged at the ropes again while I tried to ignore that caustic pain. He stared at me in anger, just as furious as I.  
Arkham reached out for me.

“Things which weren’t pretty,” I whispered, feeling my throat swelling at those thoughts and the feeling of just losing everything right then.

Suddenly, I felt vulnerable as fuck, tied to the bed, tortured by the man who claimed to love me and thinking of things I had hoped I had already forgotten due to the drugs and electroshocks. Tired and unable to force myself not to care, I let my head sink down and gave in, still clenching my teeth at the pain which had gotten mental now as well.

That had not been what he had aimed at. His fingers left my ass and wordlessly, he cleaned the tip of my dick with the bedsheets. I did my best to stifle a moan of pain as the unhealthy plastic molecules of the toothpaste were scraping off my skin, but he didn’t mean to be any more violent; it had to be.

When most of it was gone he bent down and gently licked it clean. His touch was soothing, feeling like utter bliss, the warm tenderness of his tongue compared to that raw sensation making me relax.  
When he was done with the cleaning he took off the green ribbon, put it on the bedside table and then tended to the knots of the ties.

The moment my arms and legs were freed I immediately curled up into a ball, holding my penis in my cold hands, pressing my teeth together. I felt sore. No anger, no grudge, just pathetically sore. My teeth were chattering from the stress and I was still sweating. 

_Welcome to the house of fun  
Now I've come of age_

Soon, I felt him embracing me from behind, pressing his body against my back and ass, his hands hugging me. I let it happen. Life was just a show, a tragedy and comedy at the same time.  
He gently kissed my neck.

“I hate hurting you like that.”

“Why did you do that then,” I replied with a shaky voice. I hated it when that happened, but I couldn’t help it.

“You left me no choice.”

“Ha.”

“I don’t want you to kill any more men.”

I cleared my throat and curled up some more, making him adjust his body to mine again. 

“You can’t change me,” I said dryly. Just for the fuck of it. 

“Then I gotta do that again.”

“It’s just my nature, you can’t change me at all.”

All I was capable of were spitting words and even those failed to hammer it home to him as I would see soon. It was silent for a few moments during which he kissed my skin again and fondled my neck with his nose. That was the moment when all that stress fell off like a sack of stones. I had missed the tenderness. The appreciation, the worshipping, the gentleness.  
Realizing that I was just a lost, romantic fuck I closed my eyes and a sigh escaped me. I loved it when he hurt me and when he took pleasure from getting me in sexual trouble, but that had been different. Not about sex at all. I never wanted to see him like that again, he was a monster that way. One which could keep up with me.

“Can’t change me,” I repeated again, empty words by now.

He kissed my shoulder another time, then replied: “I thought I had already.”

_Welcome to the house of fun_

I’d endure any kind of pain for him, any kind of mood he thought he had to act out on me, any spleen, any kind of doubts and any kind of sadism he would just be capable of; any and everything of that and much more, if he just held me close. Even if I didn’t want to admit it so readily, but I had lost.  
A long time ago I had lost already. But it was alright.  
I had won something else in return.

 

_____


End file.
